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A-mhàin, I’ll rest.....

I don’t sleep, so good, these days.

Furry tongued, dry of mouth.

I taste the dawn, 

of each, and every, day.

Though my sheets are cool,

and tender, was ........your touch.

‘‘Tis alcohol and it’s vapours

That calms my mind.

I fight my demons in the dark....

As I slowly sink, into the abyss, called sleep. 

There’s no need to remind me

Of war and all its horrors. 

For I visit it’s hellish realms each night.

Where I fight and claw my way back,

towards the light of day.

And all the while, I wake ....

alone.

Giajl © Jim Love