Exhausted with a taste of stale mouth,
Air of freshness far too crisp for tongue to feel.
Hot head but cold and clammy feet,
Do make a stomach fear it may eject it's meal.
Lids drooping over eyes of water base.
Nostrils straining breath of congestion.
Mind numbing with lights too bright
but yet too dark to see the lines of faith
that keep the fire burning
upon the praying candle in the crypt.
Fingers reach to a touch unfirm, unfamiliar.
Lenses look to a distance far to close to focus.
Sounds come and go to ear's hairy waves
that transfer to muffled tones of something past.
Mise le Meas Jan 16th 2011
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