Sleeping And Waking

I had a dream too sweet for words;

If insomnia's a curse,
I've yet to find the force which
Hates me so.
But should I glance upon the rock
Which casts my darkened cage
I'll myself inclined
To blow a kiss,
Because there's nothing more welcome
Than the undeserved loss of mind.

They say another day is the another gift;
Another morning another miracle.
Yet they lament not the loss of starlight
Nor the shine it brings to a lonely window.
To a lowly scribe,
Or the dreams he faintly recalls.
Narrow reflection past the looking glass
And shallow shimmering in the militude;
That's how I write this ode tonight.

But where the dreams begin,
I cannot follow.
Where imagination lays too pure
And hope all the more reasonable;
I live where the sun shines not,
Yet burns eternal.
Flame rising from the ground beneath me
Gripping a sound reality I've lost.

I once dared to wish for slumber,
But found myself counting the sand
Slipping between my fingers.
And just as my curse,
I yearned to know
Why.

Now I yearn eternally.
Counting
Wishing I'd forget the numbers
That run further than forever.
I close my eyes,
But see no darkness.
Just inkling,
Falling
Falling
Falling
No streams
Just dread of conscience.

Dread that one day
I might close these weary eyes;
Remembering when
Days were days and
Nights were nights.
Sand nothing more than warm embrace
Sunlight ever blinding
And stars the only diamonds
I could offer you;
Dread to wake myself
Suffocating again
More than 6 feet bellow the sand.

I had a dream too sweet;
But I knew it should never be mine.
So I opened my eyes
And cried myself awake.
And time kept slipping
Through my fingers.