Mourning song

 

 

3 am 

and I think of you again.

Are you awake,

or sinking into a dream?

Are you awake thinking of me?

Ae you under that same moon,

or just sat in gloom? 

Longing

for some star light

to illuminate your room.

 

3.30 am 

those thoughts

never cease.

Once released

they are like a feral beast

cawing at your mind.

Disturbing the peace.

They take your

hopes and dreams,

tear them into strips.

Leaving you nothing

but torn paper ripped.

 

4 am 

and the noise

is a constant grind.

A machine of hurt,

churning 

around my mind.

Set to full power,

clanking no matter

what the hour.

It keeps going

through conversations,

arguments, disagreements.

Replaying them over,

like a video caught in a loop.

A vinyl record stuck on a groove.

 

4.30 am

and the birds

are chirping,

a morning song,

but my mind just hears the drone

of the internal monologue

mourning the loss of hope.

It flips between

good times and bad.

It trips,

floundering on its own words

and sits

pronouncing them dead.

Then it allows me to sleep at last.

for a few hours at least.

Until it reawakens

and on my thoughts

must feast.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle