What opiate into my veins

That Lethe-wards makes me sink

Has been drained, though I have had no alcoholic drink?


This nagging tug 

Onto my e’er vigilant consciousness

Has drug me further onto the precipice of distress


Behind the curtain I reside

Afraid to show my hand

Construing the illusion that it's I who's in command


Command me to be well

“Vainly begotten”, though I am

Ashamed that I could not conform to 

Thy almighty plan






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