PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My dear sweet symphony of sleep,

It’s been lacking of late.

Hiding,

Ready to pounce

Upon me with vicious accuracy

Until all is dark.

Days will drift away

And an endless night

Will pale the skin, stripping all pigments.

I will be barely recognizable and serious.

Looking to be found lost

Among the ruins of dreams

And the ever consistent

Ebb and flow

Of emotional tides

That erode the ridges of me.

All that is left is smooth, polished.

Absent is all that is unique.

The passing of time and self

Has fused.

I am one with the tick tock clock,

A patron of its device.

Weakened by its consistency

I've become a vermin of the night,

A member of that hidden society.

I've become the unwanted.

Punished to exile

On these isles of bed sheets.

All fond memories melt

Within my desert pillow.

I choke on the sand dunes

As the sinister moon

And its shades of grey linger.

So oblique and brutal

It hides behind the hidden oasis of salvation.

Leaving only a canopy of distant stars,

Like endless eyes

Forever judging my broken steps.

Until all comes down

Trampling my precious time

And no more shall I wrestle

My loathsome Babylon bed.