And though all my fears drop like flies,
Even though life is but the dullest high,
I cannot stray from the bed which I lay,
In hopes that tomorrow isn't just another day.
What are memories,
But a fragment of a dream?
For as long as I am encased here,
That is all it seems.
But one by one,
Such memories disappear.
Which is why. . ..
I have nothing to fear.
