Asymmetry
Past an hour when even darkness rests,
in the stillness of a place without location,
when silence is the sky, the time,
and thoughts the weather that cloud.
Nightmares would be a relief,
for their horrific simplicity, at least.
The body entreats the mind for sleep,
but there is no control or key,
nor any order to be found,
within the reflections that spiral and erupt,
into tumultuous meanderings of the damned,
where only asymmetry is abound.
Could that I quicken this descent
sacrifice memory for unconsciousness,
would that this mind let me rest
instead endure dread of pasts dead.
Could that I forgive myself
for time squandered and stomped
yet eternity curls in my hands,
yet my mind lingers in lands
where peace has buried itself
for the sake of feeding asymmetry
within a temporary hell.