Appeal To Sleep
Take me, Sleep, from this torture,
this terror of being alone,
this heat of unfulfilled passion,
this ache that runs deeper than bone.
Such a curse - to see pretty girls dancing,
and have none to hold close tonight.
Such a pain - to muse on the past,
and pray that the future's more bright.
My form is tensed with desire,
and my heart is pining for love.
Is it my mind or my soul that has failed,
to capture my own precious dove?
Let me die to my dreams and tomorrow,
perhaps I can redress my sorrow.
Written 4th February 2019
Copyright © J. I. Thomas F. | Year Posted 2019
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