Misty Magic Land beckons me near
Bidding me leave behind all things dear,
And all those thoughts I do most fear,
Of monsters and people, of darker smear.
The lush green earth, the sparkling sky
The River of Consciousness beside which I lie,
All the free splendor, that escapes a longing sigh
To stay here forever, even after I die.
But for all my visits, I must go back
To the dull home, to the rough sack
Which all sensation of will do lack,
Until Apocalypse burns, and sweeps me back.
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