The world to a blind is dark
The pain to a senseless is void
Sound to a deaf is silence
Maybe all we see, hear, feel
is some imagination send to mind
as an electrical pulse on nerves.

Every day and night
It seems to I have a trial
In my own mind
For actions and behaviors
I had long ago
as well as recently

These trials **** my days

I wish I could declare
Myself innocent forever
From all fault and blunder
In the past, present, and future.

In dreams, I can fly in place and time
Awoken I am confined to one place and time
My imagination can conquer the globe and reverie
My body is limited to here and where I can afford
My thoughts are about healing all man's affliction
In my own body, I have so many deficiencies

Why it shall be in this manner
Immortal soul confined to a mortal body