Monday, September 26, 2011

What Creeps By My Bedside

Self-pity crept in by the bedside
Laid a languorous hand on my back
And pressed me into smothering covers

I fought back not a bit and sunk
Into the soft, motionless depths
Of a savoured sorrow
That tasted dry and overwrought
Bringing me back to restless immobility

What tossing and turning did this ship—
Myself—endure upon the sea of sleeplessness
I fought with rage and pride against a foe
That dared to offer out a hand to save me

“Grab hold and live!”
He cried from the deck
And still I screamed futile rage and sorrow
Gurgling against the waves

“Give me this!”
I shouted
“Give me one wrong to remember;
One grudge to nurture.”

But he stole the dead weight from my hands
And carried me to shore
Back to my bedside
Where self-pity lay defeated

Then instead of weeping
I gave in to sleeping.


  1. Wonderful write, Fyodor! Very tense throughout, then release at the end. Nicely done!

  2. Glad to see you give in to sleeping.


  3. A thoroughly enjoyable read. Thank you. :)


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