wake me up I'm fading a fog falling
slowly a deluge of numbers no help
up for hours a morning nap seems
too silly false realities invading day
wrench myself back from the brink
still sluggish mind veiled in murk I
sink as it rises grinding crystal balls
predict one day fit for high mowing
here is my story absorbed wherever
I was prepared local names abound
refer to hidden states of mind what
they meant cannot again be known
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