O for a draught of night
and to dream as the sun!
Would a grave be uprooted
I would bask in casket
sleep until morn was rid of mourn.
Let a comforter wash over me
and drench my sore bones
with a night lark's resurrection song!
Coo and woo me with cricket tunes
and a savior to rescue me
from such laborious wear.
Consume me, my bed,
and soak my weariness
into your frame and exhale
the oxygen of my soul!
Let me lay in restoration
from such kindled flame
until coals smile in glow
awaiting the sun's arrival.
Then on sweet chariot
arise my blood to new day
and kiss the sweet moon
for her tender finger's caress.
Passionate like a bear. Stubborn as a ram. Systematic as a rocket scientist.
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