Sleep was such saccharine comfort. The dark dormancy of a faded life. Dreams were a joy and sweet pretense. I could see you, even if it was just a lie.
Where have you hidden yourself, Mr. Sandman?
Why have you left me awake
When I needed you most?
Where is your sand to blind my despicable consciousness
And allow me sweet repose?
The minutes of welcoming unconsciousness,
Visits me with little comfort.
Where are my sweet dreams?
Why have they left me with naught
But visions of despondency?
I can’t sleep.
I hate my dreams.
Contaminated by emptiness
Stained by darkness.
God made everything out of nothing, and I can see nothingness in everything.
Everything I do, everything I say,
Leads not to where I hope.
Nothing I do, nothing I say,
Leads to naught but the same noose on a proverbial rope.
What do I really want to say today?
Nothing I guess, from where I lay,
I’ll just watch my sanity slip away.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Nihil Ex Nihilo
Posted by Terence69 at 1/28/2009 06:00:00 AM
Labels: personal
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