17 July 2012
I really should be at one with sleep,
Into dreams that I won't remember.
Instead awake with the nocturnals,
Moths dancing at my cigarette tip.
Nighttime feeding creatures raiding fridges.
Silence and calmness lingers.
The silent world.
All senses in overdrive,
I smell the stale nicotine on my fingers,
That reminds me the moths can wait,
They have had their feed for the night.
Morning I'll regret this time,
Looking at the clock with a sigh.
Late again for the daily grind.
Strangers eyes and words of shit,
With gritted teeth I shall force a smile upon the world that awaits me.
I bid you all sweet dreams
Insomniacs and nightdwellers
Those who entertain the moths
The Silent World • Opuss № I