Eugene S.

Somnolent Struggle

What a quiet night it is
With my isolated thoughts
Sleep pulls at my cognizance
Wanting to take it away

A slight ache around the hip
As my youth has now been lost
To the travails of the past
And long laborious days

The cold may try to reach me
With its brittle claws of frost
But this present state of warmth
Will surely keep them at bay

A fleeting moment this is
Aimless feelings getting tossed
And rearranged to create
Something lucid for this page