"O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, that thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, and steep my senses in forgetfulness?" ~William Shakespeare, Henry IV
Grasping darkness fails the weary mind
tangled amongst fleeting glimpses of a
present, past and unknown future existence.
Fragmented shadows darken a conscience
in tormented agony of ruptured memories:
pathways not followed, lovers abandoned,
shattered window panes of opportunity,
insufferable longing, unchecked wrath,
and unappeasable sacrifices of vibrant life.
Ghosts of reminiscence, all glaringly reflected
in the labyrinthine cobweb of emotions that
barricade the necessitous slumber of my soul.
Me and Sleep… we’re having a love affair together of which novels could be written.
Sleep is so sexy.
Me sleeping is sexy. [I have convinced myself that this is so and there’s not a soul here to refute my claim.]
Healing need for 2011?
Me and God… we have issues.
Okay fine! I have issues.
Sleep isn’t one of them.
The irony of me posting this at 2:40am is not lost on me.
I’m going to bed now.
To sleep... sexily.