Whilst in bed, thou knowest not at
All what about thee is transacting more
In life, for thou altogether therein art
Oblivious even to thine own existence core.

And all thy earthly goods thou wilt
Never remember--not even a pin in your
Possessions--as you shut eye on thy quilt
Or on thy sack, dreaming with a snore.

Thy soul, in sleep, is at ease from angst--
Worrying nay itself over the Dow Jones swinging.
Thou art in a subconscious mode and canst
Tell nought of what in the world's happening.

Save for stertorous breathing--the
Sign of life, sleep is simply as death!
And in both man is hapless verily,
Whether he lieth in bed or in a casket.