Many times in years before
It seems far less or maybe more
In darkness I shall not pursue
The visions of a tender hue
Perhaps which is will come to pass
My prison lies within life's glass
But still I may profess to be
The stigma of insanity
Smothered phantoms in this shell
Refuse to live but still they dwell
Faces which I've never seen
Wander out and in between
Emphatically with depth of sound
In silent distance they'll abound
To take a sliver of the whole
That haunts this weary mortal soul
Maybe once in peace of thought
When past has taken all it ought
Living will be as it's sought
Paid with every tear I wrought
