I sleep alone,
in a cold bed as the winter nights settle
I attempt to be warm with my thoughts

I keep away the dark and try to stay under your light,
feel the burning sensation scattered against your volcanic skin. I cool you.

I’m frosty, bitterly cold to the touch, I sting you and you melt me

Warm you keep me in a long embrace, as my dead fingertips touch your face, scrape through your hair and tug at it when you kiss me. You’re intoxicated to the chill of my skin and the icy breeze of my breath,
                                   together we could reach into our dreams
                                                          ­             and rest in eternal sleep.

slowly the night fog creeps through
our village's quiet sleeping streets
by morn its thick cover shall
be a shrouding mass

The Cunning serpent whispers,
"Indeed you shall not surely die";
As an angel of light he whispers,
But there is something; Still a lie.

All the people are still sleeping;
Yet you hear a whisper in the night;
They know nothing; still are sleeping;
A bump, a fleeting shadow, a light.

Whom are you praying to oh, pious one,
While on knees bending till the prayer is done;
Know you not that they are still not awake?
The Saints are all sleeping; Their help forsake.

When Jesus returns the dead will arise;
For he is the resurrection and the life;
His dead will awaken; at his word, arise;
To meet their lord and they that are alive,
and remain will be caught up to him in the air;
so shall they ever be with him in eternal life.

Entombed within the golden locks,
a struggle of two personalities that
coalesce beneath the shimmer of
                                 dusk and dawn.

Never do either ever see the features
portrayed beneath the flesh of others.
Corporeal forms foreboding there existing
                                time haunting memories.

When the curse was woven in sullen
contest, not knowing that this would
knit there time to the fabric of each other’s waking breath.

But when night did lynch daylight then
the other awoke, feverishly needing to
tend to the others demise. Not realising
                                 golden locks unlocked.

It was only when the other stared deep
into the pool of reflection. They saw the
other looking in fright, but neither one
                                behind just reflections.

Now the truth has been attuned to their
existence, they were as one through the
shadow and light to undo a misgiving
                                    from a birth right.

Each has seen into another knowing.
Where there misgivings have given them
reflection, and now they have a purpose
                                to set things right.

Tonight I dont feel like sleeping. I dont feel like eating. I dont feel like dreaming. I dont feel like being. I’m done believing, I’m done feeling.

an object in motion tends to stay in motion.
an object at rest tends to stay at rest.
my thoughts spiral
and i cannot get out of bed.