The Scientist

At moonlit hours and chilly nights The wet roads seems ever so long The ghosts of clouds loom and menace The Bed is a sweet and cozy place to hit. On dark nights and frosty evenings He works in lab on his quest for success It gives him warmth It succours It makes him lean and hungry The quest for insight turned into quest for papers Sunken eyes with a cigarreted face. Frustration a phase of plateau And then rise up smiling again, having gained an insight Into how not to lose faith.