At first I stumbled awkwardly through dark and cloudy streams
Underneath the mountain, searching for misplaced shiny things
And though I pretend to talk to you, I do not hear your words
Just sounds of muttering
My eyes have grown much larger now, and fill my aching head
Disproportionate, you say, but your as good as dead
Where did I put that blasted thing, my precious little ring
Too much light, you bring with you my eyes begin to sting
You need it though to comfort you, for your just passing through
But if I steal it from your hand, then what will you do
I shall make a law down here, no light will be allowed
Everything shall walk the same, covered by this shroud
Then you will wish for eyes like mine, as I hunt you through eternal night
That would seem quite fair to me, so much I hate your light
Calvin "Cheese Grits" Yerke
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