Getting past this point is the
Hardest part of the night for some.
Those mealy-mouthed minions
Sucking away the resplendent nourishment
Given of sleep.
The rejuvenation of darkness,
The silence, the stillness
Recharging the senses to speak.
Waking falls hard when the maggot
Comes calling.
Consciousness fails although consequence knows
It’s responsibility waiting the morning.
The maggot keeps feeding, eating the darkness,
Filling its’ belly to the point of bursting,
Denying the light for as long as it can.
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