From the dawn of dusk I have not slept
As others did- I merely wept
As others dreamt- I could not see
Through black and white misery-
From the sky I dared to take
The cold- the bright celest’ial ache
My wakefulness and sad seel
To bind my eyes that haunt me still-
And all my dreams- my dreams agone-
Are coddled afresh and marred by stone-
Then- in the hour- in the room
Of demonic life- my doom
From all the sights I ever sought
The dark demesne became my thought-
From the shadows, or the fire-
I fell off into a pyre-
But from the monster that held me tight
In its clasp I began to fight-
From its claws of nails and bone
From the hate I called my own-
As it fumbled for my apathy-
As it screamed in agony 
I saw my saviour shining bright
An angel flying through the night
(St. Michael my love, defending me)
I rose up and I could see.