Insomnia
The sun is palethe 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 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Zoya Zaidi |