In the Arms of Sleep

sleep takes me captive, no matter how much I fight it, no matter what I do to escape its grasp...it takes me away down to the darkest recesses of the world of shadows

I wonder how long it will last this time, my captivity, my internal, cerebral prison...it is hard to hold onto the frayed ends of sanity

left alone with the stillness, the sombre stillness, both serene and sadistic in its design

elders, the torchbearers, gatekeepers of my mind's crypt, surround me, as my only companions in the abyss

never uttering a single solitary word, but keeping a watchful eye, between the moments of loud and varied glory, adventure, passion and heartache that my mind's theatre latest screening offers

chasmic and cavernous, a fortress of solitude, misery, hope and grief of my own creation

each night when I am no longer able to fight off the intoxication, as slumber beckons and welcomes me with open arms.

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