Slumber pursues me doggedly; advances unrequited
I flee from it persistently, ironically in spite of
the fact I’d love nothing more than to feel it’s warm embrace,
release the day, let go of worry, find a quiet place.
There are not enough hours in the days
to navigate this energetic maze
a minefield of ticking time bombs surround you
let down your guard and the enemy will ground you.
Sleep when you die, there’s business to sort.
Be the hunter or wind up the sport.
Trading your consciousness for insanity,
all the while wholly aware of the inanity.
To be afraid of the dark.