Crystal lights, the wall is slitted in piano keys,

Darkest night, the aches way of pretending

To be in charge, in a place they do not belong,

And the song is melancholy as envy.

The way of once was, the golden days,

Unbeknownst to the protagonist,

A chaulked up seltzer punch of fun,

Where the ferris wheel glided to the top

And the sky marbled over in raspberry silvers.

The night is sappy, and thoughts stick and then sink, 

Until there is no air to breathe.

No light to let in, only dust.

No one to distract a racing mind, spinning 

Along the same track it usually does.