A deathly shadow stalks me in my sleep
A spectre siphoning my spirit's life
Its visage, only known to those who weep
to wonder why they've caused themselves such strife.
It is the source of nearly all the ills
that plague me in this too short life of mine
I can't describe the fear that it instills
The quakes of dread that it sends down my spine
Around me I see darkness, ebon black
At times I feel like I'm already dead.
My own concerns conspire to hold me back
And so, to push ahead, I'll burn my dread
And even though it may seem harsh and cruel
I am afraid I must go back to school.