A misty chamber for a broken self

Whose world lies shattered on the floor

He has no friends just a grey-blue chair

His mind is focused on the wall

"desperation and gloominess

nerves are numb...fragments of a fettered sun"

There is someone who stays in the plain house

Like a pale weathered shade behind windows

There is someone who sees cruel pictures

While he walks down the road dead tired

He's waiting there for an end to come

It's so unjust that he can't leave

The aching tune of his solitude

Will always whisper through that night

"a mirror to wonder...words won't save me

flattering darkness...fragments of a fading light"