Divided

Is It only I
that knows the the foul stench the
jingle of my heart lets off as
you, in a divided sense, sit in your trap
and deem your self
overcome by the
darkness which surrounds
in every aspect grasping hold
clamping down upon
your vital organs
torturing you with
the endeavour of the
knowledge you have
unduly aquired that life is
as bitter as the fallen sour lemon
the tree refused to hold on to?