Slip me my serenity, soothing and so simple
breathing the easy breath of sleep,
more vibrant than Rip Van Wrinkle's.
I'll slither silently through the night sights and see
visions less made of ecstasy
and more of daytime treachery.
But what in waking seems impossible
at night is solved through the unhindered mind--
through in waking won't be remembered in real time.
All I want is that sleeping serenity
which can provide me shelter from this Serpents Center
give me another breath breathed better than the best in the Waking World
soft, deep, flowing, it'll purify me if I can just have one.
But this kind rarely comes to me more than once in a blue harvest moon
if it did maybe I'd not so much compare this world to a dark little cartoon
it's people so fickle, so painfully aware and yet inept
--don't think I've kept myself out of those ranks,
I know full well I'm not all the way up to par, to have all that it takes.
At least I'm trying--I'd try better and would weep
less if I had one drop, just one!
to lessen the letcherous lessons of this, the living world.
And send me softly slipping further asunder into a less abysmal serenidipitous plunder
and have me return ready to face the reared necks of these want-to-be dragons,
