The sun brought heat and sweat, 

But did nothing to lift him from the hole, 

So dark, so bottomless, stench of sorrow, 

Recurrent, ever existing. 

No hand came to him, 

No aid, no kind word, 

As he slid farther into the gray, 

Spite his ever oppressor, lies his killer, 

Knowing joy had passed him by. 

Night came as dirt as he was buried. 

Goodbye.