Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Sleepless Nights

Conscience is an evil bastard
Waiving an unwieldy wand.
An echoing cacophony of kettle drums
Inside the head.
Should have, could have, would have
Done things differently if grace were kind,
If peace of mind were paramount,
And thoughts not fraught with desperate dread.
All of those “if onlys” and
Obligatory “wonder whys”
Enclosed in air quotes,
Accent marks accentuate a thousand lies.
Far too late to take things back,
To find a kinder, gentler thread.
Left to toss these sleepless nights while
Monsters lurk beneath my bed.
Answers fail
          And questions mount as
Night dissolves to blackest coal.
Only truth can raise the torch
To light the way,
To save my soul.
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