the art of divine chaos, divine chaos, drifting chaos, remittance, poem, poetry, prose

Often the night creeps softly

Encroaching slowly upon sunlit days

In the midst of the change

from darkness to light

The unguarded soul does not put up a fight

Burdens  pushed aside

The thicket of dark lashes descend

Dreams never-ending, soon to begin

They all begin the same with flight and fantasy

But by midnight’s toll the nightmares slip in

The cords of pain wrap tight around the chest

Sweat begins to bead upon the brow of the night demon’s feast

Covers become shackles to hard to shake

The heart races faster

Enough life force cannot be pushed through

A cackle in the distance curls fingers within the sheets

A tangled mane of curls puddles over the soft down pillow

The high moon’s beam not strong enough

To penetrate the cage of one human’s mind

Moments creep into minutes allowing the sky to give birth to morning

Tired eyes push open and take in the room

One hand swiped across the beaten brow

Again they had come as they had before

Another day begun another night endured

Only 24 hours left to forget

That the visitors will return

Taking dreams as remittance for debts left unpaid

It was hard to sleep well these days…

~Divine Chaos

© Copyright 2013, Heather M. as Divine Chaos All Rights Reserved.

Photo Credit: Inmagine