The awakening sleep
He lies on his bed
a poor composure of morbid clay,
his body can understand the
merriment of drowsiness,
but CERTAINLY not his eyes
and DEFINITELY not his heart
His weak eyes, blurred in sleep,
blinded by a spectrum of
closing eyelids, see the
moon and stars, bouncing
across the earth
Unfortunately when they close
there's this powerful picture of her
holding his cheek at a beach,
then fairy dreams appear,
then the dreams become noisy
then the dreams scream,
stabbing, slapping, strangling, murdering,
beating the silence out of his ears
Apparently, his heart is
rebellious to the silent song of sleep;
the pulse is like a running cheetah's
to weakly resist,
he wakes up to read a story book,
trust me, he is rather asleep when awake
than asleep when asleep.
By Kakraba Afful
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