Dark is the night.
My eyes flutter,
Collapsing with exhaustion,
Conceding the fight.
My head falls.
A cannonball assaulting a sandy shore,
It sinks into the feathery folds of my pillow,
Finding, finally, a point of rest.
A man materializes.
Sand spills from pouches at his waist.
He applies arcane powder to the lids of my eyes,
And fades into shadow.
Slumber slowly surrounds my mind,
A slithering snake.
I cast off the bindings of consciousness,
Allowing it to devour me.
The snake recoils,
The sand falls from my face,
I rejoin reality.
Bloody bird chirping,
Disrupting the wee hours of the morn.
I repeat the ritual of rest.
Only to be awakened again.