I am a ragged bone-man. 
Sadness is my skin; 
draped like a shroud 
threaded with sin. 
A one time sage, 
a prophet in a mire.
A scorching past behind my eyes
preaching infernal lace desire.
A gaunt and needling man was I, 
before the cotton fields. 
A tormented crack of whip on
flesh
is what this creature wields