Midnight Inside My Head

The hour boldly strikes midnight inside my head. I have already endured the long and thoughtful day. I'm courting precious ambitions of sleep and bed But there remain, still, things for me to do.... So many untitled pages are left unread, unsaid. It's night-time within and so very dark, I wonder if I am truly still able to see. But inside my head I detect a forlorn spark; Distant, sure, but just bright enough ~ It's an uncertain voyage on which my ideations embark. I see before me a further adventurous day looming, Awaiting the daylight which is no longer here. I think of my existence, my thoughts consuming And devouring these ideas until it has nourished its fill. Clouds of conceptions, or misconceptions, are forever pluming. As I live and breathe in order to stagger along I stumble blindly through this darkness of mine. I have grown weak now but my mind stays strong. I am conscious of all the tasks I must perform And place things in the order in which they belong. I longingly look forward to the morning's golden thread. Birds will sweetly sing and the sun will illuminate me. All my words are now coloured over with blue and red But tomorrow a new day is born and I will remember them Though, for now ~ maybe forever ~ it's still midnight inside my head. An abaca quintain by Alan S Jeeves