Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2020
A simple spectre wrecks the calm.

O' Sleep, his absence bids the morn.

His dreams he seems to scatter far,

yet leaves my bedroom door ajar.

Although I grip, he slips my palm,

and so I greet the ruthless dawn.

O' Sleep, I'll leap at where you are,

because I've counted every star.
Written by
Kvothe  28/M/Newcastle, England
(28/M/Newcastle, England)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems