The bright light
calls my name,
but I do not
answer.

The numerous stars
whisper in my sleep,
but I do not
listen.

My sweetest dreams
are not remembered,
because I have nothing
to recall on.

I wish I could
but I can't:

Speak
for my lips don't move.

Hear
for sounds don't pierce the silence.

Dream
for I fear my nightmares.

I would,
but I can't let myself
be drawn by the bright light
to my horrible death
at the end of the tunnel.