It's 4:26
On a Thursday morning
Mind racing
In tangents.
Banished from
Hypnos’* embrace.
Healing rest
Body and soul
Desperately need.
Outside voices
Penetrating reality
Called life
With alien thoughts.
Offering gifts
If heeded
Soul-spoken words.
Eating forbidden fruit
Without guilt
Or shame.
My doom
If you wish
Stares before you.
Randomized words
Chaos formatted
Varying verse length
Into stanzas.
Literary devices
Am told
Called poems.
*Greek God of sleep.
Therisa © 2018
Author's note: A poem for Poets United’s midweek motif writing prompt: poems.
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