This tossing makes me wonder why regrets won't let me get some sleep without those nightmares from the deep. I would shed tears. I'd even cry if that would help. Regardless, I can't face these twisted memories. I'd have to run off on my knees, but could I even find my way, the one I lost that lazy day, or days, when I served my own ease?
Linked to Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge where the rhyme word “sleep” must be one of the B rhymes in a décima with rhyme pattern ABBAACCDDC.
In case it isn’t obvious, the “I” in the poem is an imaginary character in a mild region of hell trying to get some rest. I pray this “I” would not be me. I pray he not be you either.