Can you hear what I hear see what eyes free from a cage in the mind asleep, a clenched fist abstract nouns: do they not belong? Tell me what I want to feel from the certainty of this dark room hosting a mid-day slumber relaxation tomb. I reject wholewithfaith the sensational notion that the end is an impossibility until after it's over; the thought can occur it has: the loss of the light won't be so tragic.