Journeying into deep ends of thoughts silent and unprovoked
     A growing tremor lay in slumber
     Asleep yet its consciousness aware
Wary of predatory emotions that seek to rest beside this truant bare
     Beguiling heat do they propose
     Bestowing dreams of ardor prose
     Beseeching thoughts six deep
Yet their prodding could only rouse it to grow further in its sleep
     Calling out to old man grey
     Clustered with thoughts astray
Journeying into deep ends of thoughts silent and unprovoked.

     Despite its vice grip on normalcy desired
     There is little truth in its solitude
     There is little truth in its cowardice
     Despite all hiding there is little truth in this heart.