Weaving itself, the dream-spider:
I see an aged man
(Wearing his evening time-machined body,)
Walking,
Traipsing upon the jogging track
At a pace which nature observes.

His frame battered,
Pummeled by age's indignation—
Of youth's battle lost.
His mowed grass-like hair showcasing
a white hue patented by age's theme of perseverance.

Beholden to years which he beheld.

His suspenders holding matter elegantly
Despite the invisible mass adhered to his layers
Excreted by years matured;
Increasing his gravity
Making him denser, heavier;
Decreeing excess energy.

Yet he obliges with his compromised gait
in reiterating verbs of motion.
Taking twice as much time to complete a revolution,
Taking twice as much
As his yesteryears.

In a witness's capacity, I relay:
Everything is a disciple of change,
But your energy...
Your energy remains as the constant
to the proportionality of age and will.

So lost is this ship in your ocean
That even the amicable stars
Collude with clouds
—In the frame of the sky
To cloak the referral to my compass,
To keep me from my contrived destination.

Only after aeons thence do I value Earth's opinion,
And know,
That—
'twas not collusion
'twas aspiration,
That I was being guided to my shipwreck
To go deeper in you
Be consumed by you,
O! My predestination!

I'm in a relationship with my loneliness,
She embraces me
When need be.

Sleep oft colludes with night,
Pulls wool over my eyes—
By announcing itself anon
On my station's platform.

Evermore delayed to reach this vessel,
It refuses to hypnotize a compliant patient
Despite the dated rituals performed
For slumber to thrive—

Prayers chanted in your name,
Darkness donned in your chase,
Silence kept vigil, sung as lullaby,
Consciousness sacrificed for your gain

Yet you refuse to sway me in my cradle,
Yet I lay squirming on your saddle,
Incapacitated by thoughts—untenable
Enslaved for their cause—unassailable

Many a sleepless nights were my penance;
Upon which, one of sleep's commandments
bequeathed...
To sleep—toil to reach the summit;
Inhale the thinned air
Exhaled by a content-shaped mountain.

Such was the persevering love
That even to your wrath
I was a credulous sacrifice.

O fair one!
Surely you must be our Moon's kin
For none wears his reflection as perfect as your complexion.

My muse, you need know—
That some day hence,
Idleness shall come knocking on your
door.
And know this now—
That when you do decide to let him in,
I shall accompany him—
For I have forfeited my night turned days
To him—In your name.