A year has skipped me
With things almost done
Yet nothing is achieved
And my fame my fortune are
My black hole my bewildered thoughts
A year has caged me
In courage in fear in weakness in mud
Have I changed or am I withering
With a face twisted by doubts
And I wish to be alright, out of sight
Exile on a street, you know you can not
Do it, for you are watched by eyes
Your eyes and bodies are not yours
Why waiting for another year?