Bedtime

Nights are meant for rest
Often times the rap tap ta rain against 
the ironsheets provided a soothing lullaby,
Breathing in the smell of the dark
rich fertile soils
So she’d pull the sheets over her head,
Seal her lips with a smile and hope morning comes.
But then there are those nights
she’d spent over thinking
The downpour like drumbeats
overtaking her heartbeats
Instead of the moonlight beaming through,
Lightning flashes through her window
If only it could Illuminate a section of her heart,
She wouldn’t have to exorcise her shades to find the switch
So she closes her eyes and hopes
She makes it to morning.
Slave of hope it is.

~Imperfections ~