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Sleep

There are few commonalities
Between man, woman, child,
but sunset brings with it
our forced surrender to the moon.
Mankind's boundless control,
unrelenting and constant,
rages come daybreak
but loses power in the dark.
Is there any greater proof
of this nightly disorder
than the presence of dreams?
In a world ruled by science
few mysteries remain
how much more so
an enigma of the mind.
Sleep is a chasm of loss,
cutting our mortality
in half.
With such a finite number
of waking hours,
the pressure to actualize
is tiring.

I often daydream about travel.
If I could be anywhere in the world,
I would want to be anywhere in the world.
Yet, here I sit,
(my existential clock
ticking timely)
waiting for the night
to live a life too fantastic
for the day.




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