It haunts her in the darkling

when she is sitting in despair

the voice inside her head is tinkling

she looks around for some care


a languid feeble voice

she heras inside her head

with each and every choice

she lies in her bed


With a little spark in her eyes

she looks at the dawn

with feeble soft cries

her heart was torn


she sits down there

trying to control her head

on the side of the stair

she goes a little dead.....

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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