Nights of terror, nights of pleasure

A combination of the two as a sparkle approaches the dark

A nice combination, honest days, innocent days,

Chilli sun of the days, honey sun of the days,

A nice combination as added sugar and salt in coffee

Sighing! As deep as a sleepy chimney cleaner,

So I can tell the story of my bitter and honey journey,

As I was treading over the rough tar lane,

Nor only rough, sometimes smooth as a book,

A mixture of the two, I met persons of spiritual bones

And persons of flesh, a combination of the two

On the lane of sweets and lemmons of green clothes,

I saw a lot of horror, a lot of zombies, a lot of angels

One day I flew my shadow, not realizing there was

nobody else but me, simultaneously I flew my footsteps

not realizing they were mine, my heart feeling like

there was a zombie stroking my left shoulder,

When the stars trying to give me a hopeful chat,

And scared was I, focus I had lost, a way I could

not see. I ran a thou miles, just to realize

mine journey was a pellucid ten thou miles,

During the day I was stepping up the stairs,

Climbing up rocks, toward the topless hill,

I was walking and running, along the lane

The endless lane, books I wrote on the lane

Degree I completed, but the journey

was still ongoing, it’s an endless journey

Restless nights I have spent on my books,

Endless lane, and topless hill I’ve strived to feel

their heads, I really have tried,

And I have long ago been tired,

Tired of imagining groping zombies,

Tired of everything, but quitting was my foe.