Sleep escapes from every corner of my eyes
A jester’s ghost
Mocking my demise.
For all the willows cry
Above a lake so still
Where inner narcissists align
With torches, ready for a fight
To muster some cheap thrill
Upon the missing light.
Surrender to the night
Afraid you’d never wake.
Surrender! Nonetheless to silence,
Renounce the gods that shake
All earths beneath the bed,
The family portraits on the wall
And thinking it’s a scepter
Hold nothing but a rusty rake.
To gather scattered dreams in a pity pile
To greet the blooming morning glory of a true denial
As other noble people are reborn and rise
Still, mocking my demise.
donika emille 