... my afflictions win and I am left breathless, powerless and in despair. All options exhausted for the moment, hour or day I stand bathed in my own sweat and shame for having failed to prepare for the inevitable battle.
Once again my stamina has deserted me and I am left a twisted knot of emotions. Entangled, I struggle to free some part of myself. Just a free hand or leg or feeling. A still point in the swirl of twisting rope. Clarity, a pause - a second to catch my wind. But then follows the flailing against the maddening knot. My efforts rewarded by tighter bonds.
Angered now, I reach for the old tools. Dull from age and overuse but still lethal if used with enough power. The lashes, the bruising I inflict on those I love. The scars I give myself. And the ropes hold.
Frenzy finally surrenders to exhaustion. I stop because I can't continue. No nobility in my feeble surrender.
All that remains are tears. Hot and bitter. Even they yield at last to sleep.