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Laura Turner Dec 2014
Do not presume to think dear sun
To ****** away my dreams
The dark still holds me in it’s thrall
Within the great unseen

They will not lift these limbs of mine
They wallow in their weight
Enjoy the burden of their bonds
Refuse to animate

A captive to these strains of sleep
Gladly shackled to my bed
I revel in their sweet confines
My eyelids drawn with lead

I Self sedate with each warm breathe
Benumbed by this safe drug
Which toxifies my consciousness
I revel in it’s fug

I will not wake, I’m staying here
Please do not liberate me
Reality’sbecome too much
For me to cope with lately.

— The End —