Maybe across a hall,
Where chandeliers shine and glisten,
And there I fall
On a table; a light that is dim and crestfallen.

Maybe across a room,
Where the best potteries are in display;
There I gloom,
With hails of dust and full of ails.

Maybe across a galaxy,
I am a starless night;
A useless piece of memory,
No reason to be in your sight.