Far From Days
Asleep with my thoughts counting eight hours a day.
Feet raised up from the floor made light from a dawning night.
A chance to retreat from obedient herds, pressed from social routine.
Qualms resolving, answers arise with resting ease (through resting eyes) .
Cleansed for pursuit succumbed to the seduction of nourished sleep,
Bathed in dreams that rinse away the clotting swell,
That fevered toil cracking like mud, the filth of scavenged life.