I dread I’d have to rely on pills perennially,
that never again I would return to the calm sea;
this haze in my head clings on enduringly.

I dream of the past gleeful times longingly,
instead, I find myself beneath the scree;
and I dread I’d have to rely on pills indelibly.

I try to pile the fragments desperately,
but I fret I would nevermore be free,
for this fog in my head holds on enduringly.

Those unwelcomed guests come sporadically,
and when they come, I lose touch with reality,
wondering if I should take pills perpetually.

The guests have nested in me; I plead not to, frantically.
I can’t see a way out; it’s too blurry to flee,
’cause this mist in my head endures persistently.

I wonder whether I will never find the sea, eternally.
Maybe sanity was never there within me.
Must I depend on pills perennially,
for this haze in my head persists enduringly?