How long have now I slept
While worry-heart within me wept
And rattled the bars of its room
And clashed like a cymbal entombed
What bitter potion silvered my eyes
To such cataracts and cobwebs
They sugar-coated the ledge, they bled into my pupils and
My vision now strikes back,
each poem written reacts
With the phrases dilating my gaze.
My worries will all keep away.