SteveJones313

I've lost count the number of times I've sat at my desk in the early hours of the morning, stuck between that need for sleep and that fear of waking to a new tomorrow. Between the hope of a new day and the dread of losing all that was today; it feels like I'm dying everyday. This is every night of my life - tortured by the impossible weight of a thousand thoughts crushing my mind and body, made heavier by the doubts and self-loathing; but what is my alternative? To commit myself to my bed, like a vampire to his coffin? To die again. In all of this self-pitying, I know not what scares me more - that I'm scared that I'll never wake up or that I'm also scared that I will.

I hold onto memories now shattered by confessions of a hero, clutching tight to these pieces of glass, puncturing my heart. If I am to save myself, I feel that life has forced me to undertake such a difficult task alone. Even now I feel that familiar sense of loss, the oncoming distance that makes acquaintance of friends; that which doth turn brother into someone one used to know. How prophetic this feeling is bares little concern to my irrationalities, with that shadow of paranoia still the ever unwanted companion in my travels. It brings with it, much against my protests, envy and jealousy, with more than enough petty greed for that which is not mine to demand. If time is the most precious thing we have, then it can be said that no man may make demands of your own, though were are trapped by the dictatorship of economy that rather than protect the spirit of life, would rather place monetary value. To think we live on this world but once - life is that which we can give birth to, but of our lives we can have no copy nor repeat. The life you have is the most precious thing you have, whether you care for it or not, for you only have it the once and thus any time it occupies is the most precious article in the universe, yet we attribute a price to time and at such low rates.

The world is a very dark and wrong place and it needs to change; I fear the world is lacking heart and if we are to find the soul of the planet - as it were - we need to find that which unites us. In figurative terms, I pray that we find that which binds our hearts as one so that we may do much more than survive, but thrive.

With that I turn and glance at that altar of sleep; I dare say I hold out little hope that I shall be making that sacrifice to this particular moon. Either I shall greet the dawn with burning eyes and a tired smile, or the moon shall take from me what it demands.

Whether my eyes close heavily or not, I hope to see an act of kindness from all I know when the morn comes. May you all be inspired to act in good conscience not for profit or to avoid punishment, but for the sake of compassion and in the that love and kinship spread out like the roots of a might tree.

Come now sweet stars; let us see if we can dance myself to dreamful sleep or if I shall welcome your sister as she breaks the the dawn.