The harrowing angst,
Of night soon come to close.
And the anxiety of a new day,
What troubles does it hold?

The weight that doesn't stop, but only grows
Pressure on my neck, shoulders, collar bones.
Peace of mind, and a piece of the pie;
What more could I ask for?

A restful sleep, for but a night-
One where I am not tormented by all that has taken its course,
And every steer of the rudder
That veered me farther into the unknown.