In This Quick Stream
Of Waking Senses
I Catch Myself
Glimpsing Into
Unconscious Dreaming
Of Nothingness
Night Humming Drone
Of Silence So Thick
It Chokes Me
My Jaw Works Itself Against
Cottonwool Inside My Mouth
Wave On Wave
Of Troubled Sleep
The Years Dances A Quick
Foxtrot,
Feet Nor Thoughts Stay On In
One Place Long
Enough To Really
Look At What Our Real Purpose
Is, Only Our Eyes
Mirror What Yours Hold
To Comfort.
Lizelah Thaugally