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CCCXXXVIII

April 14, 2014

My problem comes around again—
repeating endlessly: I wake
up tired, for resting did not slake
the weariness—I slept in vain.
Yet still tonight I will refrain
from sleeping ‘til the devil takes
my thoughts and dreams away and makes
me rest in emptiness mundane.
I cannot sleep before my mind
is dead; I cannot rest unless
I find contentment in my heart;
I cannot sleep unless I find
a void of self inside my chest;
I cannot rest, I fall apart.

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