Journal

Insomniac's Journal

Words birthed in the internal

His subconscious' dunk-tank

These words remained unranked

Articulate the contemplations

Of these waking frustrations

Pen in hand

Sleep be damned

These are the greatest thoughts in the land

But why do they come at 4 in the morning

Must write them down

And heed the warning

His memory won't serve him as well when he wakes

If only he knew what was at stake

Words, Words, and more still left to come

Cannot stop till he sees the sun

Sunken eyes

Blood shot red

Sleep finally comes to the walking dead

Tuesday, December 25, 2012

The Advent

Absence is shaken
Hearts are awakened
Attention is turned
And limbs take to quaking
With the glow of a fire
With the strength of a sea
The freedom of the wind
And the stubbornness of a century old tree
With the power of a sun
And the gentle kiss of the moon
Intimidating as a gun
An ever shifting dune
As solid as earth
But liquid at the core
As infinite as space
With mysteries in store

You all bend to me now
Because I am in control
I could make you weep and cry
I've made contact with the soul
Prepare yourselves as best that you can
Brace yourselves for my first stand

When the energy builds
This world never stood a chance
I close my eyes
And I advance

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