The Road

It’s morning now, last night was peaceful
Sleep holding me for about nine hours,
so one of ours has by now been taken down.
Whether deserving or not,
one of us has been reduced,
since I last closed my eyes
one of us has joined the fallen.
Like rain we keep dropping with no sign of halt,
through little fault of our own there is a storm.

Like you I want this storm to end,
wishing for there to be no more rain.
No more pain to cause downpour,
on cheeks and weight on hearts.
Oh how I dream of sunshine.
For a time where sleep won’t be thrust on us,
where my people won’t fall till dusk.

Some say there is no storm,
that we fall through our own doing,
we should be content with the downpour they say.
I too may go with the storm,
abruptly, suddenly but yet predictably
maybe then they’ll realize.
Heavy hearted I see that it is time to sleep again,
when I wake more will have fallen.

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