Your traitorous and dire sanity
Is my vigilant and fevered craze
I am sick of this shoddy amenity.
And I deaden, but eyelessly gaze
Into squalor and mental draught
Of dwellers in the rewarding maze.
Hatch up my Lotophagi for each thought
Until they preselect us as a weapon
And bring my efforts to their nought.
But we pretend that nothing happens
And laugh at Thanatos and trepan.