Imagine living in darkness, never seeing the sun, hearing the high Harkness Tower’s carillon sounding its hourly knells with fifty-four bronze bells. Why darkness? I was blind, lost in a whiskey haze with Milton on my mind, stretching exhausted days with lines of crystal meth, racing myself to death. Looking back forty years, would I change everything, the no boy’s land of fears I wandered? Lord, I bring such sorrow, such regret my sins might save me yet.
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