A Heart Thrashing…Sleepless (Sonnet)

A heart thrashing to the sound of the owls who,

Plagued with anxiety and exhaustion–the covers drawn.

Clutching and clawing at me every once in a blue,

I lie awake lock-jawed by this infernal yawning.

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Sleep–sweet sleep evades this troubadours brain,

Locked in battle with evasive slumber.

Constant swordplay wearies and drains;

Praying for conscious fade to black and umber.

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Tortured sleepless by jailers masochistic,

For hour upon hour seemingly without end.

Hopes of escape deemed deeply unrealistic,

No longer this life do I care to defend.

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What is one to do about this self-imposed draw-and-quartering,

But take broadsword in hand for the sandmans slaughtering.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

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Prompt: Sleepless

Jeremy Farmer – The Boi Poet – Tuesday’s Thinking 10 December Writing Prompt