They walk and talk like people wide awake,
But to reality their eyes are blind,
Their speech is transparent, their dreams opaque,
Their selves are with their fantasies entwined,
The world advances, they are left behind,
Unknowing, uncaring, they simply float,
As if to narcolepsy they’re resigned,
And drift as leaf in stream, exiled, remote,
Ne’er caring to resist, nor to themselves promote.
They go through life like this until one day
They wake, and realise they’ve been led astray,
Not by mermaids, nor incubi, nor elves,
Nor by any seducers but themselves.
Young man, you have been frowned upon by Fate,
Wake from your trance before it is too late.
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