i need my sleep

i need my sleep

standing but a dimension apart

the beasts wait at the gate

with an certain knowing

licking the lips of their anticipation

for a time

when the seventh veil falls

and they will devour

the consciousness of man

fully

greed is their avarice

and they dance in celebratory wonders

with full bellies

for they have gorged themselves before

when the door we open

allows them in

sin you say

i laugh

this shit is real

we feel their presence

and yet we find false comforts

and solace

in the laced web

of our delusions

we justify our paths

and our indifference

while lying to ourselves

saying “i see the light”

“light lies”

are still lies

no matter

what we believe

or conceive them to be

you see,

far too long

we have embraced the indoctrinations

of false demigods

and our “free Will”

has been subverted

and we know longer remember

the feeling of what divine truly is

do we ?

we but wish to sleep

thoughts lethargically dancing

in our subconscious reason

are we safe ?

but the demons

respect not

our illusory boundaries of being

the lips of the trumpeter

who calls to our souls

begin to bleed . . .

again

and he reasons that our salvation

is futile

but his duty

he still meets

with every breath

i lay my “hands on”

splintered crosses

which no longer

can sustain a nail

yet i say within my justified reason

that life is a journey

of continual crucifixions

is it ?

where be my rest

how can one be resurrected

without a death ?

are we but soulless beings

pretending to be ?

i wonder at times

is it me ?

we run from our inner truths

saying we want salvation

but we extend not a hand

instead we grasp the lies we tell our selves

we would rather make a fist

and strike out

at the reflective self of our brothers

with insensitive cold hearts

we pretend to be compassionate

as long as it is convenient

and non bothersome

prayers . . .  ha

to what do we offer our obeisance

that unknown God of Books

i have to ask you

what about Life’s Book ?

what is in your heart ?

the bell is ringing

the temples are being consumed

empty pews filled with bodies

and somewhere

stands the child of creation

assuming we will be moved

again i laugh

my sarcasm

has become my epitaph

as again this day i die

as we vie for more lies

to take the place

of those dispelled

quelled by the light of revelation

and epiphanies

that which we turn our backs upon

and act not upon

perhaps it is but meant to be

a mystery

this awakening thing

so i ask that supposed

higher consciousness

can i go back to sleep

for . . .

i am tired of it’s reason

it troubles me to be unveiled

the light hurts my eyes

and besides . . .

i need my sleep

© 16 March 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.