Sleep robs like death the precious hours;
so many things that I would do,
yet the mind needs slumber's solace
before each day we start anew.
sleep shrouds me in the velvet night,
each ticking hour will stitch the pall,
and when I try to glean from dreams
it's very seldom I recall.
This little death at midnight's hour
always holds me in its power.
A contest entry
- quickie <3. by August Starlight.
400 points, ended March 28, 7 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I agree
I think sleeping and eating are robbers of time. But both are pleasant.
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I love your vocabulary usage and your thoughts on the prompt. Thank you for entering. =]
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