Lord of the Manor - Ague

For all that I know about regret. For all that I know about despair and repentance. For all that I have gathered through graft and experience about hardship, I now find myself unable to control the convulsions of this bilious ague. My guts are stirred restlessly by a growing compunction for my cold-fisted ways.

 

It is only here and now, surrounded by this charcoal debris that I see the unnatural, straining pose caused by those righteous ties. Those solid binds of guidance, born of a meticulous parental care in my eye were nothing but ragged knots snapped into place by a heavy patriarchial hand. How did I expect them to last in such a life? What did I think would happen when all that energy, all that friction found a moments release? How did I not foresee this and would I have acted if I had?

 

 

Done