The song on loop
and yawn's a constant companion.
The bed invitingly soft and
the worn out cozy blanket.
A half finished cup of Joe
now gone cold
Picking it up not an option
for my lazy limbs,
Sleepish eyes carrying
Stone heavy eyelids
A caffeinated brain
Intoxicated with futuristic ideas'
Streams of probability
And possibilities
Running with Infinite paradoxes
The two eternal repellents'
Bookand iphone
Depicting angel and satan
One on each shoulders
Playing cold wars like
****** and Englishmen
With the hour of devil on clock
And Jesus on the lips
I slid into the eternity
Of pleasant thoughts
Of how to spend the next day
of my life.