The scare, yet unyielding,
tis a yolk in the making,
Timor gradually unveiling,
numb to umpteen wails,
'Rest' is unquestionable.

Merry and love at dawn,
sweet, stress slide by noon,
relief, not wanted, no not now!
all road lead to bed,
'serenity' is unavoidable.

At a peak, we achieve
glories that stretch the sleeve,
yet we aspire not to leave.
Tis a pity awake we cannot be,
'sleep' is inevitable.
© Sabifrosh