2003-05-04 - 11:11 a.m.
Lying alone,
the dark settles upon the world
and sleep won't come.
Rain echoes in the silence,
a presence constantly beating at the half-frozen Earth.
but sleep won't come.
Sleep won't come.
Coughs tear at my burning throat,
sweat dripping down chilled cheeks.
No, sleep won't come.
A bird sounds its sweet song,
a blessed call to the morning,
joyful praise through the dark
through the rain
through the pain.
Still, sleep won't come.
Sleep won't come.
Will it ever?
