You wake up cold. What happened
To that warmth you knew, upon the brink
of dreamless sleep? Did it wander off
into the night? Does everything
leave you, in the end?
You pray silence. A storm
rages, rattling windows infernal
and testing. Shivering and cursing,
you beseech more sleep.
You cannot, will not, think. Thinking
brings wakefulness. Don’t think
of tomorrow, the horrors
of the day. Don’t think
of what is missing,
what is missed.
Don’t think.
The night is quiet now.
Scrunched and foetal, you wait
For slumber, or else
the alarm. But don’t –
you must not –
think.
Too late, you’re lost, for
through the gap in the curtain
comes the day, in a glimmer.
Too late, don’t think.
You’re lost.
Author notes
You might have guessed that I didn't sleep too well last night!
A contest entry
- Melancholy Moods by FindingFate.
450 points, ended December 3, 2006, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
I think some of the best poetry is written during a sleepless night! I really enjoyed this poem, I think you'll find many who can relate to the feelings here at least at one point in their life or another. Great job. Sincerely, Mary
-
{{twisted}}
Oh the wonderous, prosperous nights of sleeplessness. Too many times have I woken up in the middle of the night, unable to fall back asleep again, so you lay there, and out comes this poem.
Been there, done that. I actually think I wrote a poem similar to this. However, yours seems almost, a touch depressing?
Keep dreaming in ink,
Jessica -
When sleep wont come and the Sandman is on strike.
Let the minds eye go to a flowing field of wheat, to a quiet snowy street, Feet carry you to lay in repose, under the green shadows of a willow draped out over the stream in a meadow. your inspiring, and you write well, I liked this for the fact, that it gets the reader to think.
thanks
Adding your comment:
