Darkness comes,

It feels like day.  End of the road for most, just getting started

For me.

When others rest, I begin.  The norm is not in this house.  

The creaks and moans and groans they beckon

to start the work you know.

So daylight comes, it feels like night.  So sleepy I can’t move.

It sings its siren song of qwest, and then we have no more.

Half of day, half of night, too much in between

Half of him, half of me, half is not alright.