Too hopeless to live out last night’s dream
Wrapped up in the arms of my box-spring lover
Its covers comfort this weary mind with soothing pillow talk
Velvety folds encase me in a thousand threads
My bed was once a springboard of sweet dreams undiscovered
I now see my bed as the Liar’s Lair
Where he whispers incessant sweet nothings
Telling me I’m but nothing
A counterfeit comforter to counterfeit the Comforter
Hopelessness leads to apathy as I feel the sheets tangling and tightening with each breath
Feeling suppressed by the incredible weight of goose down feathers
I push back the blankets with every intent to get up
Only to find soft, warm fabric snaked around my neck
Pulling me back into a sunken place
Outside of my room, I hear the calling
They are knocking to see if I’m still awake
Purpose, destiny, meaning
Do I meet the world at the door?
I was told once by someone I should rule over it.
The enemy lulls me back into bed trying to sedate the lioness within
If I can just get her to roar
The sound would clear the haze
It would even clear the stale smell in a room lacking life
Another knock at the door bids me awake
This knocking seemed different
The rapping held a melody so sweet
Who could that be?
Maybe they’ll just go away
Who would even stand at the door of my room?
Who would dare to venture in?
Do they know the state of this place?
How dank, how dismal, how dim?
“Come back later” I managed to call
Yet, again the sound resounded
Such a confident yet calming resonance
The hands that create the sound I envision being so strong
The gentleness of the tapping speaking volumes of love
The pause between each one reveals the lost art of waiting
Never-ending patience exudes from behind that door
A quality only one ancient of days could fully embody
The morse code of the knockings begin to translate into my heart
“Get up dear one, it’s not over.
I’ve come to wake you up
To bring you a life worth living
To turn your pain into purpose
Your dismay into destiny,
Madness into meaning.”
The message resonates, stirring my insides to consciousness
A newfound will emerges to leave the comforts of this padded prison
An invisible force animates my legs to hang over the side of my bed
My feet hover over the floor
Do I plant them firmly?
Do I walk to the door?