What is this malaise, that awakens with each yawning day. Quite the tortured mystery, to have a mind that seems intent on being rid of me. Staring at shapes of shadows, creating fables with a brain that’s addled With a nameless affliction. Kingdoms have lived and died, with only I baring witness to their fall and rise. Scattered noon sunlight sneaks, between dusty blinds and sets aflame the world on my walls. It is here that I feel, screams of terror and the joys of triumph. The delicacy of a daydream. A place for me.