Counting the sheep's as a nightly routine   That has never encountered such a blasphemous dream      A herd of wolves viciously ripping the   Fur and the flesh of their prey causes   Your own deprivation of sleep      You turn as your sleep is adjourned,    But powerless of lifting your body becomes a concern      Eyes struggling to see the dimmest of surroundings,   The coward is intricately ripping your lashes   To hold them shut tightly, oh so tightly.      Paralyzed physically as if you fell from a 50 story building,    The struggle to revive oneself takes more than a machine.      Questioning his motives, the nightmare you thought was a fallacy;    Was an Acoma that had people asking,    "How many more days does he have to live?!"      Relatives mourning in the evening till the morning,    Is time even relevant when you're on the verge   Of complying with the wishes of joining God and heaven's glory?      Constant reverberations unable to distinguish    A human's voice from angel's harmonic chanting;    A task, life take