O, why hast thou ill-fated me?
Were e'er you called: defect? disease?
Extracting life and energy,
The grappling reach of fractioned dreams
Benumbs me anesthetically.
Reposed, quiescent harmonies
Are ghosts adrift the cryptic sea
Of memories and fantasies.
Receptors dull, I cannot see
The honking geese nor buzzing bees
That wrestle you to wake me free
From your shrewd spell: unconscious freeze.
But you, in time, adjourn your scene,
And I, now up, fall to my knees
Abhorring sleep, all it may be,
For missed responsibilities.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like this one it puts a type of old time mood to it thats different for a modern Day writer. Keep em coming.. Love, ♥ Melissa♥