Night has fallen, dusk is gone,
Sleep is crawling, among all forms.
And yet awake, a few, a little.
Glimmering eyes holding tea kettles.
An army of thoughts, imaginary,
Clouding the world, now dreaming and wary,
As they watch their parchment,
Awake and away.
From their small cubbies and nooks,
Becoming soldiers knights and rooks.
In wars aplenty, and neon skies.
As dawn arises and sleep shies away,
A few remain, far far away.
YOU ARE READING
Often confusing
PoetrySecond part to a muses musings because wattpad has a story limit. . . I mean an enthralling book of stories
