Monstrous, this symphony,

Which lead my every malady

The thousand-notes, a melody

To tune my own destruction.

The voices tail my every step,

As on I wander through these depths

The streets a thousand-person’s breadth

I lose to my compunction.

Voices, music, screams of laughter,

Alien things I’ve long sought after

fill this city of alabaster—

Gold, in the glow of street-lamp-swill.

But little do I know these things

Too lost, alone there in the wings

The curtains close, the lady sings,

As darkness fills my anxious eyes.