Some mornings, he wakes in a cold sweat
Images of his fevered past that he can’t forget
Unable to escape the visions in his eyes
He prepares for another long day of lies
Floating through his new life by sheer will
Hoping that his motions are not mechanical
Dreading that the day will end in night
He wonders what lost memories he will fight
The cold chill of fear is not new to him
But he prays that one day the feeling will dim
Leaving him free of those vivid thoughts
That paint the picture of days long past
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