Weary Spirit (Sonnet)

The curtain of darkness waits to envelop,
It hints at the silence behind its folds.
It promises fulfillment and peace to develop,
But the struggle ensues, no good it bodes.
To avoid its grasping powers,
No time to give into temptation.
The day is young, it will not die for many hours,
The battle will be hard and long before redemption.

Through the body and soul, weariness does creep,
The joy and peace of deep, dark, restful sleep.