O why doth my bed not offer solace?
To give me sweet embrace of sleep at night
Weariness and pain are but in my face
As with my own brain I put up a fight
Of things that are now or future or past
Concerns, be they small, that relate to health
I worry perhaps what breath be my last
Do I have friends? A house? Or enough wealth?
What do the gods, fickle though they may be
Intend to my person, on morrows sun
Wonder? Excitement? Sadness? Joy or glee?
Could it be perhaps all? Or maybe none?
My mind will not yield nor banish these thoughts
Thus every night, am I consumed with fraught.
About the Creator
ChampionElCid
I started writing fanfiction and, slowly over time, have progressed to writing poetry and short stories. On Vocal I hope to continue my writing and slowly begin to make a name for myself. Please review
I hope I continue to impress you...
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