Strange hours

One of those late night reflective pieces.

Living in those strange hours,

between each tick and tock.

Melting the moment's

from the clock.

A wakeful sleep,

all passes by.

Ideas appear,

then slide away.

Maybe they fell

below the bed

on which I lay?

Turning those strange hours,

around my mind.

Looking for the ideas

I never find.

Reviews

[. serah .]

-- i would describe this piece as vivid and poignant... and my favourite expression is "melting the moments/ from the clock"...

-- and... sometimes... even i can't tell the difference between insomnia and lucid dreaming...