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Here I Lay, Counting Sheep
Counting Away, Never to Sleep
Wishing I could take that Final Leap
Far far, Down in My Dreams
Where the Meadows & the Golden Streams
Shimmer & Sparkles; Glitter & Gleams
Though My Eyes May Ache
This Deprivation; My Spirit it Will Not Break
Only a Few Nights' Sleep Can it Take
Praying All Night, For I Have Not Much to Do
Praying God Watch Over Me till Morning's Dew
Until the Day is Bright, & the Sky is Blue
The future
what a peculiar creature, the future.
And how you perceive it, because whether or not you believe it;
the future eludes you, like a scene from a play that is unwritten
Yet you sit in the dark and cold, afraid of the unknown and the untold
stories that are your future, adamant that it will all crash and burn
Yet in turn you do nothing.
You have no doubts your dreams will die; shattered and torn
So you cry for the "inevitable".
But how can you mourn the unborn?
The future is not set in stone until you carve it
So make careful with your chisel, and you might make it.
Look out my window to find
the shadow of the sun
done with playing in corners
So watch the mourners paint in black and gray
To their dismay, the corpse arises
to an elegant ballet of dissonance
with perfect timing and diligence
The taste of iron and sugar
bloom in my mouth, sweet and bitter
But still yet I am a slave to the flitter of
butterfly wings beating
so easily with a fleeting sense of obscurity
So yet i look out my window
to find the shadow at peace
but the insanity will never cease

— The End —