.

I sit there and wait to be inspired,

Reflecting on things I once aspired

To, things of my childhood, of years past,

And of things yet to come, at long last.

Upon the walls of white of my cell

I see great sceneries and portraits,

Fevered visions of those I shall fell

And secret glimpses to my dark traits.

I can feel her there, right by my side,

The spicy perfume floats in the room,

I can feel her stare over me loom

Recalling the time when I last cried;

Knowing not why now I remember,

I let this whirlwind fan my ember.

.

He dares the evil deeds.