With nights like these, I wonder how you cope
Amongst the pretenders; and those who knock
Your elegant ways. There is little hope
For me in this crowd but they seem to flock
Around you and your beauty. Sometimes when
I catch your eye, I swear I see your soul.
There, without me, talking to them again,
I try my luck, ask you to make me whole.
But you offer me nothing in return.
You deny me you queen of disaster,
Split my body in two and let it burn.
Laughing and ridiculing, my master.
You stole my words and left my mouth hollow.
My throat dry, too difficult to swallow.
– Daniel Williams