Here I am and here I remain,
sadder than a warped old LP,
caught in my own grooves and whiling away time;
melded to the taciturn shadows
and tipping in and out of my languid illusion.

I could tap out a tune, little more
than a key-scale, but enough
of a melody to stir quiescent memory
of the waning symphony within.

Here I am and here I remain,
plugging away with rhythmless words,
grasping for pale lyrics before my fastened eyes,
too far out of reach.