The night was indeed a daunting stretch of time, filled with restlessness that seemed to seep into every crevice of the mind. Tossing and turning became the established routine, as if the body sought solace in movement, hoping to shed the weight of sleeplessness. Each passing hour felt like an eternity, stretching the night into what seemed like an endless expanse of time. In the quiet solitude, the minutes crawled by, weighed down by the burden of restlessness. The night, typically so vast and enveloping, felt strangely short, as if slipping through trembling fingertips, each moment fleeting yet strangely elongated in its discomfort. It was as if time itself had taken on a different form, becoming a tangible adversary in the battle for peaceful slumber.
As dawn’s first light breaches the horizon’s line,
A weary soul feels the night’s heavy toll decline.
In the hush of early morn, there lies a silent plea,
For the morrow to be kind, and the heart, burden-free.
The stars, once bright sentinels in the sky’s vast dome,
Fade to memory, as dreams find their way home.
With the coming of the light, shadows retreat,
And the night’s dark musings, at last, admit defeat.
So hold fast to the promise each new day brings,
Of hope and renewal, and the peace it sings.
For though the night may seem an endless plight,
It’s but a passage to the morning’s gentle light.
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fiction/poetry – 237 words – reading time: 1 minute
reflections of an unquiet mind 