It’s close to midnight, I am ready to sleep, but something is keeping me awake. No pain, no longing. No. It’s birds tweeting outside. I would ask them to sing me to sleep, but I am convinced that they don’t know any lullabies.
It’s close to midnight, I am ready to sleep, but something is keeping me awake. No pain, no longing. No. It’s birds tweeting outside. I would ask them to sing me to sleep, but I am convinced that they don’t know any lullabies.
reflections of an unquiet mind 