I seek an escape, but all I see is withered white
Darkness encompasses my soul, silently biting, rearing its head like a cobra
My heart is scorching, from this cursed desolation I yearn a respite
Each and every monotonous day, I muster up this inner reality tenacity
It starts as a spark, branching steadily, brushing all corners of my heart
My hands claw at the cold stark window pane with pure veracity
The jeering glass remains adamant as my sanity tumbles apart
Spiralling into the abyss of my mind, trepidation, where is the way out of this isolation?
Stumbling, gasping, I hunt for the escape, resting across the floor, is that its shape?
It couldn’t possibly be, could it? I thought I had lost that, my singular salvation
Shimmering under fluorescent light is the golden fountain pen, once left in haste
I crawl across the hard wooden floor boards, and grasp my dusty cob-webbed saviour
Fondly inspecting this treasure, the words instinctively flow out my heart, a resurrection
Finally, I am lifted out of my slumber and enter the realm of my natural behaviour