It is real!
It enters with zeal.
Invisible! but those mirrors feel.
The clock and the calendar it will steal.
It remains concealed, it dare not itself reveal.

It is pain!
When hope's slain.
An empty bottle, a broken chain.
Like a bad penny, it will return again.
The apple of the eye, the worm in the brain.

A lost ship!
Once did regale.
A stooping mast, sagging sails.
The bow is glazed in white frost.
A crooked anchor, an immeasurable cost.