Mysterious equaliser beckons all,
Not e’en one tall achiever can run so
Fast that he, free, would not to exhaustion fall,
He’d shrivel by exchanging rest for ego.
Not a commodity on which one could gain
Monopoly, something to be received,
Persuing it makes for a frustrating game,
Striving for the elusive win; misconceived.
The translucent escape and dream’s adventure
Can only trickle in when loosely grasped,
Fickle flirt with unconsciousness is torture,
The parched, desperate beggar’s plea to God gasped.
When the merciful flood pours into being,
The sleeper is defenseless but secure,
The tide is from day’s tension their heart freeing,
He gives sleep to both humble and restore.