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The day is short; night time will be too long.
Awake with nightmares; haunted by my dreams,
How nothing timeless appears as it seems.
If I defeat this I’ll become so strong.

View lights and shapes, but they will never leave.
The blackness won’t replace, pending I wake,
To rest I’ll do whatever it will take.
What drifting, devious thoughts I start to weave.

My mind is completely numb; immobilised.
I start to converse, but no one’s listening,
Call back I know I’m not imagining.
My chance of sleep is shot down; minimised.

Am I awake? Or am I asleep?
So yet again I start another week.
©2008-2009 ~Zoe-Pie
:iconzoe-pie:

Author's Comments

This was my sonnet I wrote for Literature.
My first real crack at proper poetry, in which I mean, following the rules.
I enjoyed the end result and I hope you do too.

Comments


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:icondance-of-shadows:
oooh how dark little zoe, very well written. As for the rules, bah hum bug. the only real rule is that it flows well, after that who cares.

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Details

April 30, 2008
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