Adieu, so I, perchance to dream more deep,
recover pains endured from toils of day,
dive long to briny, deep, subconscious seas,
and grant my friends and jokers to allay
till eyes of mine are pried on random pains
of fated poor and stray crossfire of Chance,
against whose dictates harsh we end our days,
or else, we march the fields of life's expanse.
But stay, be soft, and see the sky not fell,
for blessings stay, if eyes can open still.
This cosmic cog and wheel are not like hell,
that good ones die without Good's echoed will.
Come back again when stars bye to the sun,
when we with hope walk toward the Primal One.