While I Was Sleeping

A Poem

Photo by Irene Giunta on Unsplash

nights like these
end in disaster
every time

and

i’m always on
the losing side
as if it’s inevitable.

my castle
is made of
thorns

yet

i hope someone
will break through
the gates.

the dreams
are the worst,
tossing and turning,

and

i’m caught up
in storms
of my own making.

do you think it’s mad?
or do you think it’s fair?

days like these
begin with
rays of hope

but

i always
ruin the picture
somehow, some way.

my chamber
is empty
like a tomb

and

i fear
dying here
in cobwebs.