I?m not complaining when the night is dark
And my curtains are ripped to the grounds
So the spirits hover before my eyes
And the skeletons jiggle above and haunt me
Beasts the moon and the stars hide their face from,
I, am forced to stare in the eye and feign gallantry

I?m not complaining when in the morn
My sun-filled skylights are shattered
And my light is splintered in mad abyss
And the gale winds that chase wildly the gay morning breeze
Carry my blanket astray
Flying it high
A tail-less kite in the sky
Leaving me to shudder from the cold
With headaches of sleep-deprived nights

I will grit my teeth and let myself be exposed,
Though the world may see undefended thoughts
Run wild in the maze
My psyche
I brace myself
Sacred thought lost in the mind?s cul-de-sacs
Never recovered never uncovered
Ideals never to leave the warren
For fear of never bearing fruit

Even the breast that covers my heart
Displays a vivid silhouette
Disclosing sentiments of love
Hardly ever returned,
Feelings of hatred
That naught be told
For I tie my tongue tight around issues of secrecy;
Never! Never would the world know who I am

I took the key to my dark chambers
And hurled it down a well in a town I shan?t revisit,
Most certainly I won?t
Only, there are treasures in that trench
And I must return

Therefore I?m not complaining
When the storm forces me to bite rope and bucket
And wander back into bleakness
A delicate tale I must face alone,
Sharp teeth of dark truths
Cut through skin and bone
To the marrow of my heart?s infantile memoirs

For I locked a child up in that room
Trading off a innocence-born naivety
For a shield that protects from the bitter remembrance
Of a life robbed of its purity

I am not complaining
For I know sooner or later these doors
Standing obscuring the light from my essence
These doors will fall to the pits where all the fire burns
When the weight of sooth so heavy
Breaks open the cage
And the ambition of wealth, of health even
Of love of hatred of envy of admiration
Have long died in the flames of brazen existence
And the eyes of jeerers have turned to marbles

When nothing matters but the salvation of my soul
I will not give a damn but for the serenity
Of my own senses

I?m not complaining when the night?s too dark
Or the light too bright
Though the world may see
My undefended core