Are you here, friend?
Will you talk to me?
Is that darkness I hear?
Or the beating of my heart?
Are you awake?
You sought her, did you break?
A scabbard on the table;
The food is stale, broken bottles of ale.
You lie curled and barbed,
Singing, "Are we demented or am I disturbed?".
Are you here my friend?
Are you willing to reascend?
