Too long secluded to the lurid state of scrutiny Motionless though the thoughts keep pacing Counting on fingers that hold not a clue Nor a hint of a distant murmur: "please let me sleep" At nightfall it's all the same Figures weaving flawless deceptions of slumber Clawing at eyelids that are far from clenched A mute room has so much to tell Behold the comfort of a haze It's all for naught in this one