Music

Music: expression.

For me and the artist.

Or the artist in me.

 

Restless

I lay in my bed, covers askew,

Tossing and turning,

Shivers then sweat.

 

Each time I drift,

I awaken again.

 

I try to relax,

But comfort is fleeting.

 

At some unknown time,

I fall to sleep.

Yet my brain takes notice,

And drags me away.

 

I sit up in bed,

Tired…or not?

Wishing, o’ wishing,

I would just sleep.

 

So I can skip,

This dreadful night,

And be once more,

Immersed in the light.

 

Yet sleep eludes me,

And here I am,

Crying in silence,

Crying all night.

 

Tears of frustration,

Tears of begging,

Tears of longing,

Tears for the sought-after truth.

 

I, Ruination

I, Ruination, reveled.

I reveled in such a way,

That caused me much dismay.

You see, what I ruined,

Was my own mind.

 

At the time I enjoyed it,

Though I couldn’t say why.

Perhaps I did not know it,

Or turned a blind eye.

 

Now I look back,

At all that I lost,

And think to myself,

Where my life has gone.

 

// No comment.

// - Theory