Sleep By S. A. David

“Daylight, in it you are smart
Agile, like you are a god
Feeling like you own your lair
Acting like you know your end

Eating and guzzling all
Like you didn’t come from dust
Bossing your subordinates around
Like you won’t have same end

Looking at some with derision
In your limo you laugh at the cyclists
Like a spirit didn’t crack
Your kernel for you, benevolently

In your minds you are gods
From seven to two
From eight to four
From nine to five

And you come back home
Fix dustlings in your stomach
See an Oprah Winfrey
Or read a Patricia Cornwell

Then night deals a blow to your eyes
You struggle and fight and fight
You screw the Winfrey
You mark the page of Patrick

Then you marry your sleeping place
And become lost in dreamland
Sometimes, nightmarish
Sometimes, lullabish

Then the cock crows
The alarm rings
Mummy wakes you
Dracula chases you

You wake
You yawn
You smile
You get up

But some just can’t wake
I, the angel, came for them
Every night you die
Every day you die

You doubt
Every sleep is death
A temporary death
Many don’t wake from

A temporary death
Metas into a permanent sleep
Loved ones cry
Bereaved, lament, gnash and grind

You think waking up is easy
You think it’s breathing
You think it’s a right
You think it’s a privilege

Because the world obeys you
You think it’s your playground
You think you’ll escape mortis.
All will sleep!”

Death says.