THE INSOMNIAC
The lids were tired, very heavy
Ought to have shut long before
To have shut the bland world out
Snuff darkness out of light
Relieving the self of this misery
Yet, how the eyes burnt
As pain rose from deep inside
Sleep still deserted me.
Bereft of the relief, trudged on
Awake as the world rested
Battling the monsters of grief
Who, strangulated all those dreams
Wasting away the essence of being
Pushing on to the brink
But, kept carrying on…..
…….carrying on my own hearse
Death still deserted me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment