?, #4

these are my strangely times, full-up with twist, hard in
a darkness all your own, and i'm bound by hours that have
no flow, or have i lost the dawn, loving all too well the night

when i can make my secrets, jolly with ole granny's
whiskey, and there is a window, where i can sit, where
i can magick all my famous potions, maybe throw them

at the moon, or will i lose my breathing, for you have
stolen all the airs, so i can not say your name, and can not
keep you close, you are my failing, and at the last, i may be

undone, cast into a tide that will not turn, these are my
strangely times, here at the end, you thought me champion,
upon another day, before you knew my secrets, or am i

simply unremembered
?