Circles under the eyes
becoming darker―
perforating the disaster
of moons.

The arcs will take a trajectory
going nowhere. Cannot reconcile with the
untouched depths of
failures.

Not enough was night―
rest, for death's pain.
Faraway the toes will meet
the pulse of glassy lake.

Defiant brows will come in
defence of the fight against tall
lies. You want to act till
the end of the play.

I do not sleep.
I do not move.
Waiting for the bell to go.