Drumsticks pound at a continuous beat
For every fourth count they sound
And they resonate like the drone
Of a hive of bumblebees.
Common sense tells oneself to hide –
Run far, far away from the sound of the drone –
For if one gets too close, a sting will ensue.
I, however, cannot run;
The hive is in my head,
And it gets louder every day.
No spray, no poison can terminate
No net, no flower can rid
My mind of the little terrors
Lurking at the end of my ear canals.

For the monsters are trapped –
I am trapped – in an invisible prison,
A prison which was has no key, no guards.
With impenetrable walls of steel
And the torture of loudness that
Not even an immortal could endure.
But the worst term of my sentence is time –
I will be here for a very long time –
As I will be imprisoned here
Forever.