Two days, two hours.

I suppose that is the rough approximate total sleep over the last couple of days.  A terrible number.  It even looks thinly and pale.

I think in thirds when wrung about
The mind's unfashioned senses tout
A grain of ghastly gimbals doubt
In rain's torrential wicked spout

Lifting leaves all placed aloft
Which scattered to their glimmer soft
Below and round the kingly loft
Careful crafting cringing oft

Placed unrestful thinking near
The time when I will sink in fear
Its grip unbound resenting cheer
In silence wants when I am clear

I suppose I could continue this vague wandering for a while longer but, beyond the exercise of finding sentences among my thoughts, it is not likely very meaningful or particularly useful verbiage.  No worries, though... it fits a bill of some sort.