oft times my nights
blend into seamless black,
melting reality into
a visionless sleep.
but on certain eves of dawn,
a slight wind ruffles
my unconsciousness,
stirring my sleeping thoughts.
i hear whispers in my ear
footsteps upon my pillow,
my breathing echoes
the rhythmic drums of my pulse.
visions of wild beauty
spin mercilessly into
thousands of paintings, murals
of lacquered hope and terror.
when my nights are such as this,
finally ransoming my mind
when daylight finally breathes--
i wonder if i really slept at all.
blend into seamless black,
melting reality into
a visionless sleep.
but on certain eves of dawn,
a slight wind ruffles
my unconsciousness,
stirring my sleeping thoughts.
i hear whispers in my ear
footsteps upon my pillow,
my breathing echoes
the rhythmic drums of my pulse.
visions of wild beauty
spin mercilessly into
thousands of paintings, murals
of lacquered hope and terror.
when my nights are such as this,
finally ransoming my mind
when daylight finally breathes--
i wonder if i really slept at all.
2 comments:
OH MAN! yeah, totally...
let's do it again, ay?
eh.
P.S. sorry i couldn't think of a nickname that was quite as cool as Nate the Great... psh.)
Oh, and your poem thingy is delightful! Although, footsteps on my pillow would most likely frighten me... rendering me sleepless anyway. So i guess my nights occasionally end the same way!
cause i'm countin' down the hours, i'm countin' down the days...
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