The Warden that Guards my Sleep

Bars of brain bar me by my

guards, near my far reign. With

conscious distraught he cries with lies

and thoughts to court replies,

yet I comply

brought by my warden’s deprived calls. With

boring eyes he fuels the stubborn engine

to drive by dry seas where he sees a sprawling

tide that I decide to hide under its wet hide. Swallowed 

like a star starved by dark, I suffer to swim with sickened stroke

in search of supple breath. Such nightmarish war done

to ensure I stop falling into roaring waters.

Am I

not in control? 

Far from hope I call hard 

met by a tired reply to try 

park on far floor near his voice. With

strength to stall the call of crawling waves that promise

yearned slumber, I strive

forward en garde 

charged with thoughts to live more chore, therefore,

not far to his call, his hands claw

to my living corpse brought back to lands I reign 

that rain with distraught.

That lifeguard of large pool is my guard

who brought fuel to the car that drives my

cycle of thought. Such award an

arduous partner shall taste,

for the warden hates me, as me hates I.