The world is enshrouded by night,
Just as I am enshrouded by purpose,
I see the end of the tunnel,
But I can see no light,
As exhaustion blankets reason,
And exhaustion finds his season,
And everything I say,
Begins to lose its meaning.
Sleep does into my wakefulness slither,
And still, outside, that leaf proceeds to wither.
Copyright © Shantanu Anand, 2009.
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