Nocturnal slumber mystifies
outside the boundaries
of a Time and Space,
yet within its rules
the body lies.

Yet prior,
Wondering how
to escape behind
the fleeting curtain
of somnolence,
counting sheep,
the mind reverts
into itself for repose.

And visions,
grand and minute,
or vignettes,
or snipettes,
perhaps nothing at all
present itself to a weary mind
on a crawling pace
down the vagary burrow
of varying depths
of subconsciousness.

Subject,
but not awoken to,
a realm of physics
and consciousness,
the soul flits
over all spiritual elements;
yet affected by none,

And In no Time,
Terra's machines
ring loudly in the ear!
A new day of physicality
has come to take into Opportunity.

Continuing for decades,
these are the fortunate,
for Fearing Death
after such peaceful rest is folly,

Eternal Slumber;
the final rite
of passage to those
the fates allow
to partake.

Fearing the pain that precede Eternity,
however,
can be greatly empathized
and encouraged
by an imperfect mind.