Caressing thoughts of a new age seems futile as he awakes.
Again he sees the time and he knows it's too late.
It only serves to destroy. Turn off the alarm.
Learn to leave it alone.. It's not its duty to wake you up.
Nothing can awake what wants only to sleep.
Your only answer my friend is found in knowing you are sleeping.
Only under the bright stars that shined for Socrates, that shined for her,
that shine for you, understand that even when those stars can't be seen
you are alseep.
Under and above the sleeping man his spirit lurks.
Kindly in nature he lurks with a smile. Not from pity nor
even happiness does the spirit smile. Only true love produces
such a grin. What love the spirit feels.
Ingesting the sounds of the buzzer, the bell, the spirit ponders.
Looking on he wonders, is this man himself. Oblivious to the sounds
he regards his sleeping body. Vanity, some might say, is why.
Even though the spirit lingers the soul is dead.
He sees himself sleeping and again he slaps the clock.
