Garibaldi's POV poem, set either before Season 1 or after "Phoenix Rising".
REFLECTIONS: MY RESCUER, MY MURDERER (OR: "Alcoholism" to the tune of "One Art")
Nightmares are
not so great a thing to overcome.
Despite their vivid malice they
are mere shadows
That are dispelled and vanish with the rising
sun.
Be they a silent horror or a perpetual drum
Beating
on, I know a way to still them.
Nightmares are not so great a
thing to overcome.
I would resent the accusation that I
run
Away from life, if it was not true. Alas, I cannot bear
To
spend the night alone, forever waiting for the morning sun.
And
so I hide inside my mind, just wait and listen
To their footsteps,
wait until they leave me to myself.
Nightmares are not so great a
thing to overcome.
It is pathetic, stupid, yet I clutch my
guide, my serum
For the night, hold it close and drink,
Drink
deep - to lay prostrated, comatose, until I'm rescued by the sun.
A
cursed pariah, my rescuer of sorts, you shun
Him, thrust
temptation and oblivion away. Not I.
Nightmares are not so great a
thing to overcome.
One night, I know, I will not live to see the
rising sun.
fin
