How can they assume
That trapped beneath unyielding gloom
That there’s a safely padded room
In which my Psyche lay.

Though I’m filled with deep dismay,
Upon a rare occasion gay
Whispers refuse of me to stay
And the darkness  falls once more.

Wave ‘pon wave pounds ‘pon the shore
Pulling me farther from the door
Behind which lies oh so much more
Than I will ever hope to dream of.