Stopping
Protection comes and is descending to need. I face the ever constant reality of age in memories. Torrents of twisting bodies laced with attitudes ignoring personal wrestlings. Do I dawn my crown of faith, continually hungering in fantasy. My youthful hope for all that will be; finds itself in exhaustion. Sleep comes too soon and I am now dancing with the moons dark sky, giving way to the light of my computer. I am the radiance which drives my words. I can now waltz with slumber. Haze rests over my summers silence; ringing some distant bell. Blazing waves echo across night’s sky. Heat calls to my waiting sleep to lull me with cricket’s feet. My song in day’s memory gives rest as I wade in lights pressured glow. My kiss is sweet and words whisper say goodnight. Afraid to do what is beyond knowledge; I wait in published annals of time once again. I hear words; Good night, Stop, Sleep is waiting in bodies release. My light is switched off, I’m done
