troubled dreams

Oh, slumberous god you
toss and turn and scream and
move your mouth in maddened mash
of holy limericks,
of profaned prayers.
Sleep has robbed your cares,
numbed your limbs,
and set your fingers splaying,
thrashing,
oh, slumberous god,
we do not know,
we do not guess,
if you will awake in a fury
as terrible as your rest

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