An ever revealing awareness possesses me:
never again shall the cool, comforting repose
Of sleep calm my worried brow. I pace my litter-
strewn floor, I walk the shadowed lane below, yet
That ardent promise of darkened reverie become sweet
slumber is as certain as the sun shall not set and the moon
Not rise, ere this wretch steps into that blessed realm of eternal
rest that, at long last, will put to bed all care, all worry, my soul.
Did he die?
No, I didn't die. Doing all right!
Wake up you sleepy head get up get put of bed