People breathed a hypocrisy: the sunset bringing yet another sunrise. But this flesh which identifies as mine refuses to believe this, rehearsing: another sunrise that never brings peace even to the films of my eyes Oh, my clouded mind, why can’t you rest? A second you bother, but how about 28,800 of that? Oh, my crippled psyche, I told you a million times: it will all be fine; you will pacify your restlessness. But you always protest. You never rest. You are too powerful over this flesh. The longer we dance your dance, the more you part from me. Not any tune, nor softness can please you; Not even the dark, not even your beloved brewed fluids. You ruled me for so long, I lost the power to turn our tables. So, for the myriad chance I beg of you, Will you let me sleep?