Sleepless

Not so long ago, back when I could sleep, I thought my life quite excellent, indeed. Yet, now the task proves futile, for I keep, staving off dreams where I cannot succeed. And what has changed, you may ask; I will tell, though answer quickly might be yours to see, for, yea, it is true you have wrought this spell, even if magic isn't known to thee. So I lie in the heat of a blazing heart, that drives me to craft with my failing mind, writing words of distress that we are apart, and words can't help wonder if I am blind. Yet the fire itself is proof of one thing: There is one of us two who know Love's sweet sting. Written early August, 2017