As I lay here, waiting for sleep to take me,
Random thoughts drift through my tired mind.
Images of children, with whom I used to play,
Grow old before my eyes, and slowly fade away.
A stuffed animal in the corner, battered and torn,
Once loved and revered, now dusty and worn.
A vision of running through a woodland at night,
The feeling of friends nearby, caught in the moonlight.
Images of people from another era, a colorful faire,
The sound of a fife, and a girl with red hair.
Sitting alone on an island of rock, watching the mighty sea,
Listening to crashing waves, the wet spray cooling me.
A pack of wolves, close enough to touch, but locked away,
A fence of steel and wire, their pleading eyes a stony grey.
The first girl I'd ever loved, wild and free,
The first time we kissed, and her last words to me.
Slowly the darkness takes me, hiding my falling tears.
And I feel the wetness on my pillow as I drift into a fitful sleep.
