Whenever I get to a point,
Where I stand at that familiar crossroads,
I find myself drawn,
Into the long hours of early morn.
Sleep is not the Illusive mistress she often is made out to be,
She is persistent, mischievous,
And I find her wanting.
My disdain never goes unpunished,
For I still have choices to make,
Tasks to complete,
And for my transgressions ~
Fatigue is what I reap.


About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
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