A Disturbance.

I'm tired, friend,

Tired beyond measure;

I shall repose for a thousand years,

Not for rest

But brief composure,

Because in the moment

A friend's help was most needed,

I froze to death on mountain peaks,

And, by the hands of cannibals,

Chopped myself to pieces;

I burned alive in a cylinder pot;

I kept screaming;

They kept filling the logs.

I'm fine now..

Or as good as can be.

Either way,

I manage.. I guess..

Yet life’s endless grief,

My stubborn fatigue aside,

I know this:

My mind would not know Peace

If, on the clouds, I reside.

The End.