I saw the sunrise before falling asleep,
A light that paused my reticent weep,
Lilt of the birds with a trail of the dew,
Rang in the azoic senses like aught new.
Pink of shy was the colour of the sky,
Dallied without even a stirring sigh,
A heart that felt nothing to the rise,
Eyes saw, but did not fathom it wise.
A throb of pain on my living relic,
Tenderly weighed down like a brick,
Unmoved to the dawn of time,
I lay, like missing a good rhyme.
The night wide awake just the same,
Changed all the world but my lame,
Hundred thoughts and none in my mind,
Till I sleep, it was only my teeth I could grind.