Brittle 3

The day wears on,
my spirit awakens.
Is it time
or am I too early?

Weary is my soul,
walking to the moon
looking and not finding.

Sweet nothingness
slowly slips out of reach.
Questions yet unanswered
should I wait?

Hark, is that my call?
my vision fading?
I reach out to grasp
the thin wispy image.

How long must I wait?
my body no longer bides.
Pain is my one visitor
but I long for another.

Hey don’t forget me.
Are you calling my name?
What is my name?
Has your list changed?

Sleep evades my eyes,
everyone avoids me.
A paradise I am promised,
maybe hell is the same.

My bones resound.
Is that my drum beat?
When do I roll out
my march out of step.

The sun is high up.
Shadows fall sharp and short
a place to rest my aches
may I do that just here?


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