When the night doth come, weary follows distantly. 

Toiling farther from the dawn with each passing sunset, offers not the distraction so sought out by its woeful captor.

With worried mind and worried soul and yearning for slumber. Not for rest, but for release. 

Relentless is the repeat of ruminating reasoning. Soul wrenching speculation scews sensibility, until slowly and sluggishly sle...

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