Sleep Will Come
Up the hill through the grass The stone is pushed and heaved At the top the stubborn mass Decides it's time to leave Spirals down and up again The stone is pushed once more And once in a while a friend Offers to aid the chore But often it's a lonely task Exhausting on the stone Giving life back to ash By burning flesh to bone A shore dreamt on the last foot of rope To the tide the stone succumbs In the black between the stars is hope That one day sleep will come
Rhyming
Metaphorical
5
0
GodOfNumbers
Started writing a couple years ago in school. In the Navy.
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