Lus­cious som­no­lence is sum­mon­ing me,
The doors of per­cep­tion lie ajar.
Vil­lainies of this bed­lam now seem,
A delir­i­um I’ve been liv­ing in,
Death ! O Death ! Thou art bewitching…
The har­bin­gers of this mali­cious night,
The span­gled sky is bleary,
Clouds that speak of thunder,
And wrath, obscure my vision,
That which lies latent,
In the labyrinths of the unperceived…
Sibi­lance in my ears, I shall cease to exist,
After many a blots and shots down my wrist.
To pleas­ant rever­ies I’m drifting,
Whim­si­cal are they who beckon,
It ‘seemeth’, what is in Death,
Is not in this Life for evermore,
So I implore thee, O Mortality !
Con­sume me, let me mortify !
Why should this mor­tal fear Death ?
There’s no rea­son, for tout le monde,
Is march­ing towards the grave,
Let no requiems be sung,
Slash I those very veins,
That which car­ry my cerise warmth,
And this warmth, my bestow­al upon thee,
For the respite, I vagary,
As this ves­sel  fades into oblivion,
Fath­omable ? Not that I know,
Thy grim coun­te­nance is in sight,
Bliss­ful­ly I embrace thee…

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