The Sleepless Man
He's awake in the day and night's nothing new
The sleepless man watches it all unlike the ordinary few
He's well aware of the chirping of birds and the noises of crickets
He knows the secret of knight of the night, he doesn't wear a shining armor
The knight crawls beneath the surface of the dreams of ladies- fatherless, loveless
He watches the dawn and the dusk, he knows the smell of the mist and husk
Though he kept a tooth under his pillow, his faith upon the tooth fairy ran shallow
He dreams of being able to dream one night, to close his eyes yet be blessed a beautiful sight
Eyes of the beholder were bored even of nature's wild canvas
But beauty rested upon a yonder damsel.
She shimmered with dusk’s last gold and dawn’s first silver.
Her moonlit eyes spoke tender tunes that even the morning birds grew envious of.
Her song felt like a cushioned cradle shaped perfectly for him alone.
Her presence was so graceful it tucked him in warmth—
elegant, gentle, subtle.
And humming to that tone, the sleepless man surrendered to eternal slumber.
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