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Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #937997
Sometimes I go to bed, but the rest of sleep is elusive.


Ephemeral Slumber



As a soldier weighted with weapons,
I trudge day's path drearily.
At night I lay down my armaments,
And proceed to bed most wearily.

But still I fight
The darkness of night
That threatens
A comfortable sleep.

Battle the pillows,
Assault the sheets,
Tossing and turning,
Pre-dawn feels like weeks.

"See it. Be it,"
Visualize what this peace might be.
When I can't let go of my day's struggles,
Night offers no comfort, no solace for me.





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