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Nathan Jul 7
At night when troubles themselves seem to weep
The rest comes hard and never deep
Sounds in the dark break the dream
Slick and stuck in tangled web
Trapped mid slumber and thick in head
The figure stands with burning eyes
Writhing closer that empty gaze
The scream won't form
My mind ablaze
Close enough to taste her breath
A burst of speed
I free my hand
Vanishing fast
And nothing left
Now alone
A stammering mess
Back to rest
This hard fought test
Watching in the corners still
The darkness shimmers
For one more thrill
Pining to be loved
I sought asylum within these pages
Every line, every word, every rhyme
Was a reflection of the sorrow that ruminated
Beyond the looking glass.
Yes, I fathomed I was alone without a
Guiding star, without a lodestar to lead the way, O, but now I am liberated
By The Sovereign of Songbirds
Who solaces me by his mellifluous musicality.
(Yes, I am free)

Soaring beneath the stratosphere, thermosphere, mesosphere, and exosphere
I saw all the suffering underneath the sun
And remembered what it was like to slumber.
Rest is something I took for granted
Feeling it was only forged to flee lament; oh, but that is only half the freedom
Of truth: Yes, we are reborn when we slumber.
So lull me and lead the way; furthermore, I am liberated.
The Sovereign of Songbirds enspirits me
By the clairron lullaby, by His voice.
(O, I am free)

Dreaming, I lost sight of all that made me human;
Limitations forgotten, I drifted heavensward. I forsook
All I held beloved.
Why must phantasy mean sacrifice? Must the fantast
Be sundered in order to claim transcendence, ascendence?
Yes, I was burned by The Incendiary Sun but
My heart has survived. It leads the way to liberty.
I am risen by The Sovereign of Songbirds who resurrects me.
I am summoned from the ashes like a Phoenix Rising.
(O, I am free)

(Se’ lah)
Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III

cici Feb 25
to be deeply buried under the sea,
stringing the years along in sickly slumber:
how many layers of darkness are you wrapped in
when the gravity so thoroughly pulled you under?

holding them to the gentle light,
steadily swaying like undaunted thunder
if you name them can you emerge then -
shall you do or shall you wonder?
what matters is what you do when you're awake
Shannon Soeganda Dec 2020


I can’t help but to
                                fall in awe
                                                   with her
                                                             ­      idyllic astonishment;

like how the moonbeam shines its ray
to lit up the darkened night sky
amongst all the unrest souls in their
                                                           ­     (not so)
                                                             ­                  blissful slumber.

I beg your pardon, m'lady—
for I have mistaken your
                                              b e a u t y
                                                               ­    for
                                                             ­      Misconstrued Paraselene.
Something is up with her physical health and I'm really concerned about her overall wellbeing. I hope she recovers fast and nothing serious is happening to her health.

                                                           Hereby, I abnegate my all to both of us.
Jas Nov 2020
When, in time, where a moment
Of intense desire tips the jar of elucidation
Sets loose a smoothly sailing stream
Down a hungry throat
To the awaiting gullet stuffed with malaise,
Can the rage of enzymes be heard?
Will the breath of despair, and the wailing brew
Of alcohol make peace in silence,
Or is the feat of the battle proclaimed in slurs?

When, in time, will the meager klinks of newborn knees
Ring as explicitly as creaks in an ancient house?
Will screams of hunger conceive compassion
Or should thee be mocked and exiled
To recover from the blithe shame of dependency and impatience?

Hear the sounds tread in darkness
Pleading, crying in the embrace of frigid walls and sterile corners.
Record the rhythm of footsteps
Echoing and fraying -
Taste the smeared sweat of exertion.
Count the patches of lost paint
Stolen and stowed beneath polished nails.

Hold me similarly while I recover.
Show me while I regain sobriety that I was caught
When, in time, I was lost in misery.
Paul Idiaghe Oct 2020
sky, a sea;
the sun is a ship sinking
into slumber  

& i’m a seed
on soiled sheets,

sproutless, seeking the solace

of silence,
the nascence
of night—
the delight

in drawing dreams from dust
to dusk into day
into divinity;
in withdrawing

to the wild and wondrous
womb of waking.
Nylee Oct 2020
Nights are awakening
into the deep sleep.

Terrains keep changing
we need little more time
of the slumber
for the enlightenment
James Sep 2020
Ive been gone.
A long awaited freedom.
Gone for so long.
Ive been gone.
For too long,
Ive been gone.

In my memories,
A past lingers in a haze.
The spaces so divided,
A connection seemingly quixotic.

Its cloudy.
Its dark.
A moment in space.

It feels like an eternity.
Floating in a universe with possible impossibilities.
Yet I remain aimlessly afloat,
enshrouded in nothing.

No drift
No serendipity
No clemency
To pull me from this cold idle.

And when I see a comet hurdling by,
I can only wish to share its great journey.
Ren Sturgis Sep 2020
Craving your skin on mine,
missing every whimper and whine.
Foreheads together,
breaths mingling,
teeth pulling lips,
hands gripping hips,
hold gets tighter.
Succumb to me.
Come for me.💜
A soft sigh in the night.
Eyes drift closed.
Body needs rest.
Deep, peaceful slumber.
Norman Crane Sep 2020
how tranquil it would be
to sleep as deeply
as an anchor
at the bottom of the sea
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