Grisly Sweven

Misapprehend me all, by my sweven.

I hath au fait it presently;

That my cap-a-pie was in a dead trap.

I tried to clepe,

Yet nary 'un harked on my utterance.

Albeit, ye were standing forby;

I strive to elucidate them.

Ye thinketh I'm a lunatic,

And bruited.

If they knew what ye said,

Which will go plumb to my brain.

Would they knew what ye said, as against?

Hast Hath perished me in mote;

Nary 'un foregathered me, in-Lieu!

Ye all were standing right there;

But nadir 'un came to lift me there thence.

I wanted to wail, howbeit, I was feeble;

As I'm a dolores of misfortune.

Alas! It was all, REM sleep paralysis.