Every night I must give up to
the next day
Grow tired, retreat and fade away
My heart calling out for more time
My thoughts drifting off among
the sublime
So I pray in the spare
of lucidness
My hopes, my dreams,
my willingness
Yet into sleep I dive
full forward hurl
This other world might weigh
my mortal soil
To steal along the rich
and heady clay then
Slain by rising violins
So I must fall
And thus...I just fall...
Again
And you will just rise again into a new day Fine poem....Loved the flow TO
Wonderful write of that blurry connection between the finished day, sleep, and what the future holds, and much more besides...
Hi Taylor. This is a headlong cavort amidst the dying cares of today and the unborn woes of tomorrow; as though 'better the devil we know'. Full of wit and movement and shot through with a sense of realisation of mortality. One to be read and reread savouring nuance with each fall we take into the arms of Morpheus. A very good read. J
In night comes fantasy and one must release reality to grasp their fleeting dreams...this is sometimes hard to do..it seems you know this well. I love your imagery. I must say...Wow! This was an easy read to get lost in and I did. That's good poetry. Thanks for the great read. : o) bobbie
Tailor, I like this one so much I am going to write my own version. It is part of the thought process of everyone who has lived. Jim
A wonderful presentation concerning those hazy moments before sleep. A really enjoyable poem, well done. Best wishes, Andrew
a routine affair has been made made in to an exciting thing.powerfull write.posted 10 for u surya
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
slowly i will get into the rhythm o your poem