Wake me with wordless curses at this hour,
A whirl of turmoil, a spirit shaking
With willful absence of feeling’s power -
Comes the shameful pain of a mind breaking

Down all the sorrows held under the bed;
Reluctant, the silent sounds just stutter,
Leave mirages of what needs to be said;
Thoughts thump and my heart a vicious flutter.

And yet the flavour of polished sadness
brings softly the glow of some golden past,
A time when life was clear of this madness,
Picturing peace, with relief I can gasp:

For while I might suffer with pain today,
Tomorrow may yield a hope that will stay.