Lost in a lack of concentration, head spinning,
focus is diminishing.
6 AM, and both feet are cold inside and out,
reminding him that his blood is also cold, too.

Every morning he dies, and every evening he is reborn,
more weary than before.
25 days have passed and inhibition is slowly trickling in
his now clearer disposition.

But perhaps it is too clear now.

Maybe it was the absence of transparency,
that persisted the synapses to fire,
persisted the creativity to flow,
and persisted the motivation to grow.
But maybe he just thought so.