ink-stained dreams

Syrupy sweet slumber beckons,
In all its irresistible allure…
Yet I refuse to serenely fold,
Choosing to wander instead,
Wooing insomnia,
To indulge in ink-stained dreams,
Elusive yet so achingly near,
Making me seek the dark elixir,
Caffeine climbing up my veins,
Releasing me from slumber’s enticing hold,
Letting thoughts flow free,
Nudging and carrying along those lying deep,
Like the silt carried by a stream,
Stirring and allowing memories to take flight,
Like fireflies on a cool moonless night,
The inner sight shifting,
from the now to what can be,
And dwelling on those improbable things,
That may never come to pass,
Led by the call of the whimsical,
Insistent and unrestrained by reason,
Keys dancing to the ceaseless beat of fingertips,
Weaving an intricate silky fine net,
Just right to gather the grainy stream of wayward ideas,
And embrace with infinite care,
To be gently worded and set free,
Into the endless stretch
Of the sleepless night…

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