The Ocean of the Night

The Ocean of the Night

A Poem by AllauraRose
"

I was in the car thinking about how mysterious the night is and how it is so intriguing. So I thought this would be a cool topic.

"
The night
A time when we rest
When the night owls come out of their nest
The mysteries seize to end

The insomniac like myself
Is intrigued by curiosity
Wanting to see what happens when you stay up
But regretting that choice in morning

When night falls again
You see why you stayed up past your time
The night calls to you
Wanting to solve it

What lies beneath the surface
What hides in all the shadows
Wishing to figure it all at once
But failing to learn a single thing 

© 2017 AllauraRose


Author's Note

AllauraRose
I hope you enjoy it!

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Thank you very much Allaurarose for your poem in my contest. Myself I experienced quiet heavy insomnia last year. I cannot sleep over 2 weeks it's was quiet horrible. When you are not rested and you have to work p,us make social interactions. I hope your sleeping is fine now. I like your poem have very gentle poetic mood e end is not really about happiness.

Posted 5 Years Ago


AllauraRose

5 Years Ago

Thanks! I will try your suggestions.
...

5 Years Ago

I hope it will something works from my advices. Also some people recommend evening yoga or evening m.. read more
AllauraRose

5 Years Ago

I hope so, thanks again!
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mou
those normal hours emerge into the ocean and keep playing with our story..that is my biggest question..why it does not find it's own question..had passed many nights as insomniac..and I too did not get my answers..like it much.
mou

Posted 6 Years Ago


AllauraRose

6 Years Ago

Thanks, glad you liked it!
mou

6 Years Ago

My pleasure AllauraRose
deep write,what does night bring,a totally different world

Posted 6 Years Ago



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160 Views
3 Reviews
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Added on December 28, 2017
Last Updated on December 28, 2017
Tags: night, insomnia, mystery

Author

AllauraRose
AllauraRose

Raleigh, NC



About
A fifteen year old introvert who found a way to express herself. Some of my poems are okay and sometimes they are trash, just bare with me. I'm no Emily Dickinson, but I'm me. more..

Writing