My fingers tremble feverishly
Eyes watering from fatigue
And breath in short hot wisps
A yawn escapes my lips
From the depths of my loins
Exhaustion calls my name
The body is weak
Yet the mind is ever alert
Sleep eludes me
And so I stay awake
And bear my burden
Till the rest I earnestly seek, finds me
Maybe a little too late
-The Grace Ola
