Norman Santos

(Nov.19,1990 / Philippines)

Somnolence


The night is a beast
burning my garrison of cigarette
and thrashing the silent cages
of my unwrittem poems

The humdrum of silence
that treads the white penetralium
of the dark hours of the god’s sleep
speaks the loudest

To stars and other celestial gods
we submit in somnolence
and rest in a citadel of comatose
but even sleep has an underhanded recoil

Sleep is a cloaked death
feeding memories to the fire
and manipulating our fears
into furtive cobwebs

So we tarry in this twilight
of wakefulness and sleep – this somnolence
deprived of rest, of peace
tossed in the gossamer of open despair

Submitted: Thursday, July 04, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, July 23, 2013
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