An Insomniac's Lullaby
It is 2 AM by the room clock,
Body, helpless, detached; done
Brain, still active. Heart wanting
the sweet melody of music. Alas,
the speaker needs the electric
embrace of replenishment.
It is 2 AM by the room clock,
Body, makes a sound that the
brain rejects. The heart craving
for notes, noise; chaos. Dejected
it lays on the bed, hopeless like this
damn night.
It is 2 AM by the room clock,
The body is content, the brain not
so much. Trying to make sense of
the Sonance. The heart, relieved,
entrained with the vibrations. Alas,
It is the spring, poking from within
the bed.
In this sanctuary, where dreams
take flight, where silence unleashes
its fury. This bed spring sings without
fear, and draws sleep a bit nearer. With
each creak and a crack, it creates a
melody for the heart to unwind.
Verily, it happens at 2 AM every night.
Prompt: Spring (Bed)
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