Insomnia

A one-eyed panther stares at me tonight,
Its orb gleaming with a most surreal cataract
Contemplating an attack but unmoving,
Frozen on its track,
It seems as if it’s eternally on guard,
Patiently waiting for ages
To pounce on an unsuspecting prey

Like me, and many of my kind
Who in the deepest, darkest hours
Would suffer the pangs
Of dilated minds and bursting hearts,
Waiting for the promise that each dawn brings
Yet wallow helplessly,
Endlessly,
In the cold, black pool
Of the reasons why we pray

And the games that we play
While still able and unsaddled
By the all too urgent concerns
Of a grown-up’s artificial world,
Are by now just mere phantoms
Of some innocence long lost,
Utter delight and wispy smiles
At some make believe flights
Aboard spaceships made of card-boards