Death is the twin of Sleep, they say:
For I shall rise renewed,
Free from the cramps of yesterday,
Clear-eyed and supple-thewed.
But though this bland analogy
Help other folk to face
Decrepitude, senility,
Madness, disease, disgrace,
I do not like Death's greedy looks:
Give me his twin instead-
Sleep never auctions off my books,
My boots, my shirts, my bed.