SIDE EFFECTS.

Sleep you hours,

In the wake of my storm,

The fiery furnace that towers,

Bends a welcome stifling the sun

Whilst my soul doth mourn.

Like a metronome:

The seconds tick away in silent space,

Caged in the quarries of time 

They cannot escape.

I bear their grudges.

Creeping out beneath the slush and grime,

That thoughts imprint in my mind,

A sloth would have a better time,

And not take upon itself the guilt that lies,

In the convicted seconds and minutes of 

The side effects of insanity's rise.

Sleep you hours, 

In the coldness of my waking sleep,

Because when you wake, joy will be there

To appreciate and to greet.