Quietly, gingerly, breathlessly
Tiptoe past the hands
The drugged,
stalking seconds finally forgotten
Thumping in fear of waking them up
Stealthily, covertly, silently;
Muffled dins of excavation,
Concealed in fervent keepsakes
Flickering slightly to the gleam of once-bright eyes
Weakly, paradoxically, gently
Cradling found memories gone gold
King Midas' touch tainted by the tendrils of time
Life, leeched out and turned cold
Heavy in hands
Shackled to reality
Forgetting, awaking...
Tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock....
[...as if] life goes on.
|
Submission Name: Sleepseeing
