>>126868359 (OP)
Lying in beds of garlic and orchids
He closes an eye, which closes another
And in sleep, he dreams of watching and looking
And feather clouds dancing, he curls up his lid and sleeps
Swirling with visions on man's confusion
All of the work, done just to appease him
The Argus he cries, though love has its place in the sun
It's only man's fear that carries him on