Sleep

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It's lovely to sleep,
No need to weep,
A solace from the nightmare,
Outside that creeps.

So nice to be warm,
From the fires of the cold,
To stare at the moonlight,
That burns others so bright.

And sleep if you must,
For your bliss is complete.
But I must wake to the dust,
And the debris.

And when my eyes are raw,
From the turmoil and strife I saw,
Maybe then I can sleep,
Once more, slumber deep.

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