Forever blinds me
and keeps me prisoner.
I grope along the stairwell
cold pavement guiding me.
The sightless being
whose moans can only be heard in her own tortured mind.
Her cries for sight, for a hand to guide her, are of no
Brief flashes dazzle her, and send her
searching in a new direction,
hoping her sight will be restored,
convinced that the end of this darnkess is near.
Poor blind woman
The truth would kill her.