Awakening

Blissful coma, be my homa,
keep me safe and warm.
Shield me from that beldam
whose face is like a storm.

Her voice is like a foghorn
that blasts me from a coma,
and I must confess, without duress,
that I prefer the coma.

Wrap me in your pitch-black wings,
I never more will roma.
Just keep that hag away from me,
till I end this silly poma.


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