SLEEP

What a blissful thing it is To be under the silhouette of its heels. Sleep, a state of no worries A state of no hurries. An endless space less form A form one is awakened from To the harsh realities of life Back to the hustling and thrive. Sleep, a state of absorption of pain Washing all stains of anxiety Like a never ending rain Blotting all poisonous entities Making one to be peacefully empty. But this form of peace is temporary It cannot be as permanent as the words that scar the pages of a diary If it would, then wouldn't that be death? Because sleep is one of the gates to death. Sleep is here Sleep is there Makes one unaware It can deep It can be shallow. Whether be it shallow or deep Brings all to a state of good rest Buries one in its deepest steep But man got to wake from sleep To life's alarm beep.