Sleeping Lions

Waiting to sleep at night
I hear the monotonous sound of rawring,
The purr made in delight of sleep.
Sleep.

I turn my face into the sheet
and stare with wide eyes praying for sleep.
I sink deeper into the bed,
drowning in the sheet.

Space and time drives over me.
The mattress opens up and I clamber to my knees.
I explore the dark jungle of stars while my unconscious lingers,
Waiting to pounce, but still it hinders.

The rawring becomes wild and devours my abyss.
It scratches my brain with a bloodthirsty kiss.
Waking slightly I turn to my side
To hide, to escape, to lie.

I cocoon myself in the tattered covers
As the sound lying next to me stutters
‘moan murmer love whisper you
Sleep talking, awakening my wildest nightmares

I turn to look at that face of kitten innocence.
Fragile and naïve, I keep my distance.
I crawl out of my cage and onto the floor.
Sleep sleep awake no more.

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