They creep across the sky,
prising at
the cracks in my curtains,
O that they would steal me away.
and I could feel myself fade!
Instead they mock me in my sleepless state,
screaming at me and burning
white-hot
so that,
even when I bury myself
deep under my covers
and try to succumb to some sort of slumber,
I know that they are still there.
They seem invincible,
those spheres so swollen with
the promise of eternal night.
And yet,
I know that when morning comes with tender tones,
it will bring with it some reprise
and I will start to reappear.
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