the fate of counting sheep

it isn’t very different from counting sheep
though I’ve tried
gut sleep never follows me
into those dark reaches
instead I’m left with visions of things
I don’t understand

your paleness is a testament to your weakness
drained of faith for the living
you dine on faith of the divine

tell me why you thought me different
wasn’t it wishful thinking?
or was it the taste of death that brought
you near

I’m dining on empty plates these days
but each plate reflects
what you held so dear

tell me
if you have the courage
of the stories
so sublime
they didn’t need an answer
but instead asked the question
why must we die
in sync with such madness
dare you to reply

but I offer this
as a suggestion;
the taste of humanities divine
and all we hoped for…
wasn’t I close when I read such things?
weren’t we reaching a bit too far?

never mind
forget the answers
and let the questions
define our fate