Sleeping On A Train

Sleeping on a train, slipping through the snowy night.

Headed who knows where, maybe Moscow or Madrid.

Maybe this time I’ll out run myself and my demons.

Maybe this time I’ll find a pretty face smiling back at me.

 

The moon shimmers behind my rapid eyes.

A silvery light in the unknown places I roam

while my soul leaves my body to go wandering,

while I lay helpless, asleep, unaware.

 

And the snow flakes go untasted on my tongue.

Maybe in the morning I’ll be in Rome or Tel Aviv.

Sleep is the only peace, only time Satan can’t find me.

Sleep is when I find a pretty face smiling back at me.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s