Monday, January 27, 2014


I long to dream and to sleep, and awake in far off grey lands.  Rather, I am mad and awake,  where the Huntmaster and the Great Hunt continue, every night, where dreams never live, and sleep is for the weak.

I long to dream instead of what I do, which is hide from daylight, and pray, so that I enter the grey lands, before morning comes.   I try, oh Lord I try.   But sleep and dreams escape me.

In dreams I am a king
In waking times I am a beggar.

I long to dream.
I long to sleep.
But it refuses to come.

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