Another day slips below the
Horizon, kissing the night sky
Until all that is left is bruised
Black, the colour of sleep, yet
Still I keep, still, to me a dream
Of yet another moment stolen, dream
Taken, seized, from the jaws of defeat,
Still I wait, for that moment of true silence,
Ears ringing in the end of all sound,
Soon to be silent world, mockingly
Exhausted, yet still not tired, driven,
Yet not driven away, still, yet not still
The same, still different, the same difference,
Circles meeting in concentric constants,
The spiral dish of daily life, spinning ever
More, back to the centre, sinkhole where
My self lives and breathes, constantly run
Yet not run at all, independent, still standing,
Each deeply ragged, aching eyes, wondering,
Still not the same. Why so tired, when
Everything is within grasp. Why so tired
When all that life requires is one day to
The next. Still tired, and as tired,
Still.