Running from sleep
Fighting its dreary eyes
Passing through all the streets
Sprinting in familiar surroundings
Begging for something to remember
From the days, I swore to forget
In this place some time ago
Screeching winds of comforting voices
Engulf the road populated by corpses
Slowing to a walk, the stairs appear
Welcoming me down
Silently descending,
A bed made for one
Settling six feet under
Sleep comes not as war
May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 12:25 AM UTC
Running from sleep
Fighting its dreary eyes
Passing through all the streets
Sprinting in familiar surroundings
Begging for something to remember
From the days, I swore to forget
In this place some time ago
Screeching winds of comforting voices
Engulf the road populated by corpses
Slowing to a walk, the stairs appear
Welcoming me down
Silently descending,
A bed made for one
Settling six feet under
Sleep comes not as war
Request permission to use this poem