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a nieve look at insomnia

their wool of wan
reflect the light
of sun that's gone
but of the night

and when they bleet
i fall to knees
i'm at their feet
i beg them please

to jump with haste
to jump with zeal
no time to waste
for all i feel

are restless nights
that have not seen
the restless might
of sad routine

over the bed
now do i bade
those in my head
the sheep parade.