Lewis Walddren

My heart stirs,
with every word.

It shapes the mind,
and softens the heart.

Like the morning,
it is the light of day.

It wakes the soul,
and breathes true.

Like the night,
it is the shining stars.

It is all I have –
poetry, I love!

Sleepless

I am sleepless,
this fatigue
allows no relief.

I am weak,
impartial to either
slumber or activity.

I am awake
at ungodly hours,
while the world sleeps.

My thoughts are lucid
at the most
inappropriate times.

I am thinking
when I should
be at rest.

I am sleeping
when I could be
living.

My clock,
is an aberration
of time.

Fear wakes at night,
thoughts I give no quarter during the day,
now weigh heavy.

Paralysed,
in this anxiety,
I have forgotten what’s real.

I am sleepless,
I am fatigued,
I am awake

at ungodly hours.