still the noise

a little after midnight
and still the noise is my head;
although i lie here, clinging
to images of hope or dread

or what all else my mind can form
from what it daily thinks and sees:
and these vague thoughts I’m not the host
but, rather,

the disease

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

One thought on “still the noise”

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