blood seeped
from the open wound
where once
a sparkling amber orb
had lain
sweat
from pain and exertion
flowed down
the lined forehead
to sting
the remaining eye
with a salty lick

it isn’t as if
he asked
for this life
of constant misery
the struggle
the fight
the rampant need
for violent discharge

but he found
it suited him
tailored
for a disposition
that bordered
on the edge
of disquiet
necessity
punctuated
by the nagging need
to push farther
into the depths
of passionate
dissent