For What It Is Worth. . .

I Wonder why

I even bothered to wake up.

I should have stayed in bed,

letting  the sweet darkness caress me.

the inky blackness enfold me.

Who cares if the morning doesn't come.

the darkness is better.

One can see in the morning light,

the blackness is better.

one can hear in the morning light,

there is no sound in the blackness beyond black.

only the senselessness of eternity,

somewhere in the black of blackness.

I wait for dark, impatiently,

for the comfort of the night,

to close my eyes one last time,

and wait for the thick embrace of a night

where the stars shine without light. . ..