This will be a poem eventually
But I am quite tired and unable
currently, to write.

My eyelids are heavy with the
impending onslaught of memory
dream and, ultimately, night.

I retreat from the battle of
light and dark, preferring instead
to feign solidarity, with ease

To the unfolding of history,
the march of time and space, I beg
one last time, let me sleep in peace