Sleepers

We have lingered in the oases of the deep

By angels winged with light, bright and white

Till darkness reclaims us, and we lose sight.

O, for the silence that hides

Behind and between words,

and for life that beneath silence hides.

Ah, for the strained, lingering undying cords.

For the promised death of a life unlived,

and other ties that should not be saved.

Like lights behind us,

Coming to blind us;

People come and people go,

People dance and rave without a show;

Like soft and silent winds slipping with ease,

Like a smooth, playful and flying breeze

While the world sleeps quietly around,

like a corpse, scratching and coughing with no sound.

With fluttering arms, people fall and people fumble,

While their weekends before them heavily tumble;

As the years, slowly dragging their glimmering feet behind, stumble

as the years stutter; as the years mumble,

and minutes expand into centuries;

While stretching their arms, bowed and humble.

We are the sleepers who do not dream.

We are the keepers of a silent scream,

of a world that swims round and round,

and has rich nightmares in nights with no sound.

Fluttering - fumbling,

Stuttering and stumbling.

We have lingered in the dungeons of sleep

By devils clad with coats red and black

Till flickers and flashes save us, and we're back.

By A. Guy