My mind—been full of evil thoughts,
Peeped in to find thoughts that make sense,
Been spun, attached and webbed I found—
To a web-like network of joined nerves.
Those thoughts got me tied up in knots,
Yet marched t'wards sanity from thence,
Scanned through the place of the campground;
Found what was molded to the curves—
Were wrath of anger and onslaughts,
Thoughts were broken, in my defense.
About to turn into a hellhound—
God's grace! I took evasive swerves.
