My Insomnia

The noise that night is. This will also evolve.

Awake,
Awake are thee,
awake for there art hazards in sleep,
for witches and crows arc their backs,
to slave flesh,of feathers and bone.
For rats and lice scab their fleece
to sour harvest, of moon and wine.
 That dawn begs for thy leave, 
that dusk wanes for thy presents,
till light is waste and dark is full.

Let us weep in their gaunt shadows,

and whisper in their bilious halls,

so thy drowning song of slumber fears us,

so thy creeping face of deliverance mocks us.

That we shall hunt thy noise of night,

for the madness of day,

 that we shall haunt thy malice of night,

for the hubris of day.

For thy shall be thy witness,

thy burning of stone

thy altar of sand,

thy restless tide of salvation,

on the breast of thy fire.

For hollow shall bear the child of ash,

black like thy nights blade,

black, that I shall giveth steel to thee

black, that I shall giveth war to thee.

For thy wells of sight has been drawn dry,

for thy church of prayer has been worshipped dry,

so the dust of mutterings shall wed with thee,

so the autumn of wine shall dance with thee,

my insomnia

my insomnia.

Reviews

[Glen Yumang Manese]

THE OLD ENGLISH IS PRONOUNCE IN THE LINES...YOU GIVE THIS VERSE A VOICE LIKE IT NEEDS TO BE SAID ALOUD ON A STAGE...JUST AS I READ DOWN THE LINES OF THE WRITE...GIVES YOU THAT FEEL AND HEARTACHE OF NOT SLEEPING...