Now again I can sleep once more
as I cling to the peace I've found at last --
no longer do my eyes struggle to close,
awaiting the dissipation of his breath
as he slowly ventures into sleep's abyss.

A nightly routine of restless evenings
awaiting the daybreak of morning sun,
a familiar comfort of light's senseful grace
caressing my wilted palms, pruned from tension,
drying underneath the ultraviolet cast from above.

At last I've discovered insomnia's antidote,
the mournful release of his quivering hand
ejecting me into a void of newfound rest;
trust is the apparatus of sleep's emergence,
and I've trusted none as I now do myself.