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Wake me, that I may know the terrors of mundane delusion to
be but Dreams. |
Wrapped in the blanket of hope, I slept long. I dreamt that I was
sitting on a throne. My face held a bouquet of smiles. My smiles
withered, and the petals of merriment dropped, one by one. Then
suddenly, I beheld myself in rags, sitting on the hard stones of
poverty. I cried, and my teardrops fell on the unheeding, unrelenting
stones of my circumstances.
The world passed me by in mocking silence. I cried for Thy help.
Thou didst wake me at last, through the force of my gathered cries.
I laughed to find myself neither rich nor poor.
So do Thou wake me from this dream of smiling opulence and crying
poverty.
Deliver me, O Maker of dream-worlds, from the ugly nightmares of
death!
Wake in me immortality: Wake in me unshaken calmness, that I may
know that the fierce terrors of mundane delusion are but dreams.
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