His mind knew the secret his heart ached to flee,
“Why not a happily ever after, for me?”
“It’s not the very after you seek, weak one,
A wrecked soul, tormented and weak?
For reflections of painted heavens, poor one,
Face storms, that drench one from head to knee?
An oblivion is all that you chase, enslaved one,
And that too, all at the cost of your sleep.”