Midnight meditations, often tend to be morose-
I am quite familiar, and am quite well versed in those.
It’s in the midnight hour that we tend to reminisce..
Of times when things were pleasant- and life was filled with bliss.
In the lonely hours ‘twixt the sunset and the dawn-
To the past mistakes we’ve made, our minds are often drawn.
There within our darkened hearts, dwell atavistic fears,
We tremble in our terror, eyes filled with unshed tears.
Then we long for ignorance, “For ignorance is bliss”.
I’d rather far..be ignorant; than well informed like this.
The saddest knowledge I possess, within my heart and mind
Is the solemn accusation: “The most horrid sins are thine”!
Mine? Why , yes, I guess they are; for once I had my dreams-
Not knowing dreams are foolish; I then implemented schemes...
Whereby those dreams might be made fact, alas, I soon discovered-
That time reveals the schemes and things, we once thought we had covered.
Midnight meditations, they often precede choices-
Insanity, and suicide, results of midnight voices...
And yet I sit, night after night, and meditate alone-
In bondage to my concious, until the night has flown.
And with the sun, I rise to run, laps in the race of life-
Make other choices I will rue, with which this world is rife-
A good nights rest, is my request, as weary life goes on-
I’ll sit and yawn, until the dawn, and meditate alone.