What’s hunting my sleep in this early dawn?
It’s noise is greater than the earth quake,
It creeps me out till I lay awake..
What’s hunting my peace at the sight of rest?
My stomach plays no rumbling sounds,
Neither did I offend it with an unpleasant treat.
What’s hunting my rest at this pleasant hour?
The snores are gone,
And the breathing monsters have disappeared,
So what then curses me to lay unrest?
What’s the reason for this great fear at the sight of rest?
My hands are clean,
I owe no one,
Neither did my hands touch the blood of another,
Before I lay, I made my prayers,
My bed is as neat as the immaculate white,
I made all my confession and I hold no one to heart,
I am a jolly lad that’s never sad,
So what then is hunting my peace?
Oh! now I know peace is a gift,
Greater than riches,
And worthy to be made as wishes,
As unseen as it is,
Its discomfort taunts my being.
Alas!!!
I found what taunts my being,
A heavy thinker I have been called to be,
It is the sight of cockroach by the bedside..
Funny as such a thing could take my peace,
To un known thoughts far from it,
Peace is indeed a precious gift,
I hold my peace as I lay asleep.
Thank you chatafrik for approving my work.