Deprived of sleep for many days,
In sunlit morn I started to pray.
Up stony steps I had to crawl,
I found myself inside a hall.
They forced a paper into my face,
Gave me a number to know my place.
Three clicks of the clock they kept me still,
Behind their masks I felt their thrill.
But I sense the end is coming. The end is coming near.
But I know the doors are opening. The doors are opening here.
Johnston
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