Sleepless
Not so long ago, back when I could sleep,
I thought my life quite excellent, indeed.
Yet, now the task proves futile, for I keep,
staving off dreams where I cannot succeed.
And what has changed, you may ask; I will tell,
though answer quickly might be yours to see,
for, yea, it is true you have wrought this spell,
even if magic isn't known to thee.
So I lie in the heat of a blazing heart,
that drives me to craft with my failing mind,
writing words of distress that we are apart,
and words can't help wonder if I am blind.
Yet the fire itself is proof of one thing:
There is one of us two who know Love's sweet sting.
Written early August, 2017
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