Slowsand.

Sighs masked as hearty shouts,

wand’rings marked as guided routes.

Yawns removed from concentration

feebly yearns for liberation.

A slow ascent upon a plane,

a crawling climb beneath the slain.

Labored breath intent on rest,

the rise and fall within the chest.

Thoughts just flitting here and there,

sparks igniting ends of hair.

Preparing speeches ne’er to raise

the spirits of the languid daze.

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