Awake

The moon, a silver shard in velvet skies,

Awake I lie, where slumber softly dies.

No dream clings tight, no comfort in the dark,

Just wide, unwavering thoughts, a burning spark.

The house is hushed, a breath withheld in sleep,

While in my mind, the restless shadows creep.

Ideas take flight, a flock of swirling birds,

Whispering secrets, unarticulated words.

The day's debris, the worries left behind,

Now rise like specters in this quiet mind.

Regrets replayed, with sharper, keener bite,

And hopes for dawn, that chase away the night.

Is it the silence that unlocks the gate,

Or just the body's bid to circumventing fate?

To wrestle truth beneath the midnight's gleam,

And force a meaning from a waking dream.

The clock ticks on, a steady, measured drum,

Each second echoing, "The answer's yet to come."

Until the dawn, a pale and gentle hue,

Will steal the thoughts, and paint the world anew.

But for this moment, I am truly here,

Awake and thinking, banishing all fear.

Lost in the labyrinth of what might be,

A solitary soul, eternally, momentarily, free.