As the night rolls on, turns midnight blue.
Blanks stars one by one; they were too good to be true.
Catching stars with fishing lines seem flimsy.
Seeing dreams with open eyes is just another whimsy.
And as dawn breaks horizon with its shattering golden light,
Lending to the dark soulless night daily sight.
Sleep has hidden a tired weary soul in its gossamer veil.
Dreaming with closed eyes; dreams of any other kind seem to pale.
And when the sunlight tickles my eyelids with her playful rays.
Eyelashes hug each other; fervently wishing nights were its days.
Battling a losing fight, squeezing my eyes tight shut.
Demanding the rather lovely dream not be so cruelly ‘cut’.
But all good things come to an end, and repose is finally lost.