The room in which I as a child played
Is filled with everything
And after my light leaves
Darkness enters and ravages me
Uncertainty, worry, sorrow
They have a tendency to follow
Now covered in dust and with
Candles unburned, my greatest shame
In the after-light of my life
The typewriter awaits me
And shines like the mane of a lion
Forever glee
I don't know whether to stay or to flee
It wouldn't be me
Without looking to leave before I was asked to
Think about that