Ironically enough, this was written at three in the morning when sleep was a pipe-dream. |
4 am comes at the strangest of times. That void between the land of the living and a darkened world God himself reaches for the snooze button My prayers reach the ears of a sleeping Divine And tickle the dreams of My Slumbering Lord. Even at midnight I see the reality of time itself approaching 4 am walks with a swagger unseen And a confidence earned only through years of practice Conquering the Working Class And welcoming the Irresponsible Youth. A pang of guilt hits the back of my head Like that first jolt of electricity to a Condemned Man. Can you see time? I sure can. It looks devious And hungry. I imagined 4 am being much more lonely After all, who wants to be up then? Would He not be more grateful for the company? Apparently not. Like a drunken con man in a seedy bar off of the Ave He smiles that smile. I see not parted curled lips But anxious teeth. How could time consume? Oh right Time is always consuming. And 4 am is just better at this game than most. 5 has taken an air of responsibility in his Old Age And 3 still dominates the Young at Heart. Gentle guiding the next generation into their first All Nighter. But 4 Smiles that smile. And I see not parted lips Not a welcomed gaze But hungry eyes And anxious teeth. |