Seize me, goddess of night,
Tear me out of time’s inching progress,
The slow, painful drip
Of second, minutes, hours
Counted out in worry and regret,
Passing like chained prisoners
Shuffling in endless procession
Step by slow and measured step
Toward distant dawn
Swallow me, beast of darkness,
Rip me from the prison of myself,
Poison me with dark dreams,
If that is your price,
But carry me from this wakeful hell
Through oblivion and forgetting
To sleep’s empty fields
Where thought is blotted out
And there is nothing.
Who wrote this? It's wonderful.
ReplyDeleteThanks, I did. The first line popped into my head Sunday night while I was lying in bed suffering from an abscess in my jaw, and I actually wrote a whole first draft in my head without ever getting up. I forgot most of it by morning, of course, and wrote this as an attempt to recapture the feeling of writing those first lines in my head in the dark. So consider it a second draft.
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