In sickness and in health I've held on to my regret In allegiance to some Misplaced sense of Righteousness, I have Indulged in these rites Of dogged self-flagellation. Now there is no health, Only sickness and regret, And so it must be gone Before the night is done May it take its leave and Never return. [Original sound produced on a Native American drone flute] [Mp4 File, 1200 x 1200 pixels] [No AI involved]