Falling Asleep Dog Tired
(this poem is a bout falling asleep but there is no category for it)
Heavy lids; burning eyes,
no more chance of getting high.
Dreams both start but don't sound,
as carriage carts drag on cobble stones.
Your heart - slow baritone beats,
pulling you away to sleep.
And it suffers you,
for your loss of control.
It scares you too.
Still, down you must go.
Into the vast sea
of nascent mortality
of terminal vistas.
The hindmost journey
being quiescent aloft.
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