A sense of disquiet
Looms over the feeble heart
In its troubles mired
Deep, unlike the bard
Who sits yonder corner
Playing a tune of merriment
That sings of two lov’r
In a sweaty Entwinement

P.S.: That is all for now. Before I turn to Sleep, a necessity which is even denied to me, like a lost soul in the desert questing for the water, or the Journeyman questing for the Holy Grail. I too, seek after Sleep, which has become a luxury.

Esto Perpetua…

Your servant

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