No Lullaby Supply

Behind the eyes,
tucked tight lays
the world it turns,
pain finds its ways.

A world’s anguish
welcomes my hell.
The day it is gone;
I try speak of it well.

This paper soaks
in the ink I try fly
in torrents of pain I
know no lullaby.

I’ve great loss here,
in reality I turn so
rough in my bed I
refuse food to know.

My companion rest
burdens in the mind.
The noxious day it
has left me behind.

Traveling swathes
closer to the moon,
I ride a wind high,
absent heat of noon.

I need no veil no,
I’ve quiet wings.
Even in a cold air
that at times stings.

I retreat for rest in
tree tops so to see
though I’m innocent
terror in me I bring.

Sober is not my sleep
now I hurt so deep.
As a creature of night
your songs I seek.

Save me from despair
you’ll not now or ever.
I am a lonely bird that
flies rogue now forever. 

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