Before, there was no time to think

thoughts which were mine alone

Sanity always on the brink

matter rubbing against the bone

Now, my head, in a fog so dense

seems stuck in lowest gear

But I’m driving through the darkness, on a train from whence

toward a shift into the clear

Then, when morning comes, with it’s sparkling dew

like a curious child, I shall start anew

pondering dreams my heart will send

of sunnier days, carried in on the wind