I live my life within four walls,

Between the corners of my mind.

I spend my days with echoing thoughts;

Give me comfort in my slumber.

I know not what my present season:

I see no bitter snow across the ground.

No pitter-patter of rain on the roof,

Or wind whistling between the trees.

My sight is blind to sunlit flowers,

I see no eagle flying free in the sky.

No golden sands across the beaches,

No rippling, rolling bubbles of the sea.

I know not the height of my capture,

Or the width of its great walls.

I stretch out in hope of knowledge;

And clutch the vast, black nothingness.

Maybe I see I light in a corner?

Whether or not I step towards this hope;

Fling open the west-ward window,

And let the light come streaming in...

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