Sweet Nights Prisoner

Like so many children's blanket forts, the night covers the sun. And quickly the Sandman makes his rounds, careful not to miss a sleeping soul. My eyes heavy with the burden of night, I am still. But the history of my heart defies the lethargy that my body has so eagerly found. And as the darkness surrounds my current existence, I no longer accept its reality. Yet it lingers over my shoulder, waiting, waiting, waiting to perform its choreography of slumber. Soon I am cloaked in its quiet comfort, and I willingly submit. The nightâs darkness has grown blacker, and my body has grown weary. I can no longer hold against the overwhelming, surging mass of nocturnal euphoria, and I am crushed. I accept my lot and lay my head upon the coolness of my linen. Sweetly, my body lays motionless as the night places its ethereal hands upon my eyes. And as I succumb, I leave the dirt of the day!