
Silence in the room—
It's all that you require.
Your head is fiercely spinning,
You start to perspire.
Alone within the dark,
The pain is so immense;
Nothing seems to help at all,
To hell with all expense.
A wave of sickness rising,
You cannot truly relax;
Round and round in endless circles,
The migraine at its max.
Certain foods you eat,
Can surely make it worse;
This horror in your body,
A truly satanic curse.
You cannot bear to see anyone,
You desperately need to be secluded;
The slightest, smallest noise
Terrifies the mind, deluded.
Eventually, the pain
Starts slowly to depreciate;
You can face the gentle light
From the window's old grate.
You can cope with other pains,
But migraines bring you truly down;
You feel you cannot do anything,
Expecting now to drown.
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