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Routines of Will
Sleepless,
A morning dipped in quiet
The dull drone of daylight
Torturous and slow
Settling down,
The daily place of business
Be a part of the scenery
Shake away fatigue
A gear that turns in twilight,
For the greatest good
A basic turn in simple standing
Or a modest cry for help
Living to rest our heads,
Will to carry forward
A stale sense of morality
Stagnant below our feet
Being,
As we lace our hands together
Breathing a new essence
Deciding to wake again tomorrow.
