Frenzy and Creeping
My nights and days are highly imbalanced.
My a.m.'s race by, out of sight,
Like the Road Runner chased by the coyote.
Sometimes, they go over the precipice,
Pursued by that rapacious predator, time.
Conversely, my p.m.'s pass much too slowly.
They show no mercy,
Elapsing like Chinese water tortures,
Taunting me with sleep's lulling susurrations,
Only to keep me from surrendering to rest.
If a vestige of adolescent ambition
Yet propels my breakneck waking hours,
A raging loneliness
Disrupts the flow of evenings' closures,
Enslaves me to their insomniacal postludes.
I wish, just once upon my lifetime,
Not that day and night might find balance
But dispense with their frenzy and creeping,
Realize their disharmony is inconsequential,
Compared with eternity's equilibrium.
10/03/08 - (2)
|