I reached up to face the clock of time,
My guests were too late and I did frown.
I kept searching for words to elate,
Those friends considered the motions of stars.
It was patient of them to steal the sleep,
My odds and ends seemed bitter in comparison.
I reached up to no longer care,
I struck the bed from too many words.
I kept searching for the truth, like a lost son,
Seeming to adjust the truthfulness of my soul.
I was hanging from the edge of reason,
My guest is my nomadic help in this desert
Of my creation.
I fellowship, they downright luck, like the odds of
The earth and the world of love that quakes.
I kept on the search to feel like weeping,
Opening doors of a level that despised.