An excerpt from the poem "Healing" by D.H. Lawrence
I am not a mechanism, an assembly of various sections.
And it is not because the mechanism is working wrongly that I am ill.
I am ill because of wounds to the soul, to the deep emotional self
and the wounds to the soul take a long, long time, only time can help
and patience, and a certain difficult repentance
long, difficult repentance, realisation of life's mistake,
and freeing oneself
from the endless repetition of this mistake
which mankind at large has chosen to sanctify.
Blessings :)
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