My mind is filled with uncertain dread,
Like the fog hanging over the town
Just beyond my window pane.
Bare-branched trees
Like reaching fingers,
And lonely buildings with twinkling lights
Rise from the sea of mist;
Rolling in from the ocean grey,
Like so many of the slave ships
Bound for port.
My head is pounding,
Heart is aching
With outlandish feelings, unfulfilled.
Is there a place for me in this world?
Or will I continue to stagger, alone,
Down the thorny wayside,
The migraine-punctured gloaming
Lost in the fog forevermore...