A whispering breadth

Lo good night what dreams may follow

when the sleep is fraught with dark

murky brethren within the hollow

making the mind brim with froth;

at the breaking of the shallows.

To what sight does the day break light

when the folly are all encumbered

the stormy dismay of many falling

to the waking of those in slumber.

Tis’ the tidaling among the crash

as fallen walk from hiding

the ox and lion graze freely

as it veils the well upon rising.

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