Traveling on this broken road
My wandering mind
Gets lost in the rows
Of all these written lines
What lies below?
Black crows
And a vision of home I will never know

The night is dark and full of terrors
Or so they say
These nights I play psychology professor
To keep the darkness at bay
What lies beneath?
Gritted teeth
And a thousand crumpled pieces of loose-leaf

I hold the key
To the doors
Of whom I’ll be and what I was before
One last metaphor
What lies in the deep?
One last sleep
Eternal peace