It is most horrible, and does
Me horrify without remission--
It were not well, as though to bury
One’s head in sand—so to escape
Into a dream without provision:
For one has little time to tarry,
And enemies that pillage, rape
Were not imagined—so it goes.
Yet, in a life without repose,
Replete with unimaginary
Killers and con-men—in their shape
Disguised as friends sans prohibition--
It serves one to be wise and wary
Whilst dreams the worst of horrors ape
In imitation. The condition
Of life continues as it was.