At this Point I Hate Trying to Sleep
the quiet dialog of the darkness,|
and the cool air blowing through the vent,
incessant beats of my heart,
that bring to mind the rapping,
of a black raven at my chamber door,
nearly drive me to tearing holes,
in my mattress so to escape any ambience.
why can't i hear You?
or am i deaf?
can i not see You,
or have i just looked away?
and if You can't answer me,
just this moment,
i guess i understand but,
give me patience,
and give it to me now.
oh, i'm a mess, Father!
© 2009 southernblood
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