Sonnet 5

With fevered dream, my lost and weary mind
Does toss and turn in interrupted sleep
Stones fly, birds speak, and in a fright I weep
For ‘magined evils I can’t leave behind

My mind plays tricks on quickly-beating heart
Makes it believe the world is being rent
Asunder, that at last the dark’s ascent
Will cover all the earth with hellish art

Covered in sweat, my aching body cries
For hot, for cold, for drink, for food, for rest
It little knows the real, not east from west
Without the mind, it knows not truth from lies

But fin’lly I awake and noises cease
I find some modicum of waking peace