Longing to be unread

An idle mind is the devil’s playground. Welcome to mine. Whether ‘tis lack of slumber or neigh of friendship… a lazy thorn is in my side. Come dusk, come dawn, wish the other one gone. Hence the flight of time alone in a limbo of thought. Idle-wild is my present state of thought. Begging to be unread, not wishing to be misunderstood. The spirits and tempters dance in my head, whispering their songs in my otherwise deaf ears. The shifting of tides of life has come short or as an eternity. Sandman! Slumber! I cry unto thee! Hold me in your grip until this eternity of sadness has ended. May all come to pass as a mere skit of my dreams. Singing, dancing, I am distraught… rekindle the wings of my feet o Lord, scare the demons away. Give me back the youth stolen so quickly… it is still mine to have! And to you dear reader, thank you for not listening to me.