I look into the time that’s before sleep
Before constructive sleep where I could heal
Before I pray the lord my soul to keep
Before I start to dream and cease to feel
Hypnagogic soldier is my name
Mother plays some music in the living room
the mind awake but body not the same
“you have an invitation” says the tune
Hypnagogic soldier is off fighting
And battles hard before it calls defeat
Motivation lost because of such poor lighting
The corporal says that we will now retreat
the wine falls on the dirt and must soak in
plates of earth which slide upon the liquid rock
defeated soldier, mocked and shamed and broken
my mouth is open but it cannot talk
the day is spent sleeping inside the walls
not of work or rest, and not of play
Instead I’ll think of shears and waterfalls
perhaps I’ll clean the mess but not today
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