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.