I'm Just Tired

                
                I have a blinking color
                Throbbing regular and slow
                Birthed from an inky well
                As incarceration's beau;
                Clinging to my closing eyes it's wired--  
                A lonely note revealing
                That I'm just tired.
                  
                Grown from that color
                Apparent images show
                Like dancing carvings
                In imagination's glow;
                Or perhaps they are better described
                As film in golden clarity
                Put forth by my mind.
              
                She laughs -- they all do --
                But I cannot see their faces;
                Deepening now, her passion
                By reality replaces
                All former, waking indifference
                That I know and have broken
                To shallow credence.
              
                So I simply hold and cherish
                This one in the golden light
                For here and now her hand
                Devoid of remorse just might,
                Just maybe, without a miracle or sign
                Be willing and loving
                And gently held in mine.
                      
                Indeed, such a display
                Such a knowledge and a feeling
                Forces ideas into mind
                A thought interweaving;
                For what if a splinter of truth remains?
                What if in the now
                My dreams aren't so insane?
              
                But then my eyes open
                Though hardly at all
                And I realize my stumble
                My thoughtless, mindless fall;
                Futility is known, my heart is a liar,
                Nothing truly holds a hope
                ...I'm just tired.