Insomnia

The sun is pale
the moon is gone
your pillow drowned and suffocated
blackened flesh
and fragile bone
the warmth of blankets overrated

every tick from cruel clocks
and each and every croaking mocks
you, never ever taking pity
- sounds within a silent city

senses of a jungle cat
you're lonesome in an awesome flat
but tired out and tortured down
and forced to love the chains, which bound

you to your bed
true to its vow
the night has fled

turn daylight on.




Poetry by Corvus
Read 704 times
Written on 2006-06-28 at 18:47

Tags Insomnia 

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Zoya Zaidi
How lonesome nights can treat people equally,
The same bed, the same pale moon haunts me perceptually,
Just go to my page and read my loneliness,
And you will know that's exactly, how insomnia treats me...

***Hugs and welcome to our fold dear Corvus***
Love, xxx, Zoya
2006-07-12