30 October 2012
Tossing, turning
dreams almost burning.
A loud alarm,
eyes opened saved from harm.
Clothes pulled on,
a reflection in the mirror like your no one.
Grey misty clouds,
it's almost as if the suns drowned.
Feet padding,
silence almost maddening.
Head down
though no ones around
Dreams out of reach,
to far away to ever meet.
A Twiddling Sanity. • Opuss № I