Here is another poem I wrote in 2006. Even though the husbear HATES poetry, this is one of my favorites.
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Peaceful Sleep?
Once again I lie here, watching the door
as I have done many nights before,
SLEEPLESS - thinking about the days of yore
and the days which are yet to befall me.
But unlike the morrows of all the days past
Sleep at last finds me, like the frost finds the grass
on a cold autumn evening when the witches have cast
their spells of enchantment upon me.
Weighing heavily upon me like a spectre of gray
Sleep continues to draw me like a horse draws a sleigh
down a haunted street called Yesterday
where wretched memories o’er flow me.
Standing on the corner of Yesterday and Grace,
I see an old man with a sorrow-filled face;
the one I looked down on with scorn and disgrace.
This is where my conscience had failed me.
As I call upon Sleep, asking him to repeal
this memory I’ve tried in vain to conceal,
Sleep’s true identity is to me revealed;
Death has come to claim me.
It was at that moment when I realized the door
of my past had been opened, and I came to abhor
the night that Sleep came – the night that Death tore
any hope of redemption from me.
Had I known that Sleep and Death were the same,
I would never have bid him to call me by name.
Now all I have is a pictureless frame
of a world that will never know me.
