Awake At Night

Eyes wider than 
Sequoia trunks growing outside.
Like the tumultuous ocean
I lay.
Restless.
Without hope of the Churner
Ever stopping.

My thoughts are no more
Ordered and calm
Than I.
War torn lesions
In my mind
Where good thoughts 
Once stood.

And so battered are my eyes...
So worn the highways
Of my mind.
Like the ruins of Babylon
And the devastations of Gettysburg,
Chaotic silence swept over me.
Then that too -
Ceased to exist.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2008

Poem

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