Sleepless

By Andrew R. Duckworth

Sleep came late for tired eyes
Still burning from sunlight,
Still glazed by worry and sorrow,
Feeling as though they cannot
Spare the time for rest.
What does one know
When the eyes are closed?
What is unknown sits veiled
In a murky marsh
Guarded by a mother of monsters,
The light not penetrating
Through the closed eyelids.
Heavy with night and confusion,
They long to stay open-
To see the dangers of the world
And meet them all in waking.
But they also long for the calm,
For the brief, safe pausing of time,
A pause that will never arrive.