Written by: norah natty maturure

I lay there unwillingly listening to the sounds of the night breathing.
Things heaving, people sighing relaxed and replete in the make believe of dreamland.
I wondered if I was cursed to forever hear the night and never participate in day. 

For when the dawn rises I’m tired and exhausted beyond measure, that it’s all I can do to keep a conversation going as I wait for the days demands  to end. 
Hoping,  against all facts and the past that tonight I will rest. 

The wind howled and raged against the house that protected all sleeping forms just like my mind that would not rest and help ease my fatigue in body and soul.
O' Night, were you created to mock me