Golden Gate

Rolling and twisting unable to sleep

A thought kept rising, from the deep

What if sleep, binds tight with my brain

Eyes do not open, when nights ends

One less soul, morning sun would have

Earth would be lighter, by a few stones

Eerie as it sounds, it doesn’t take place

I always reach tomorrow, even crawl to its end

To lay down tired, on my unmade bed

And before sleep boots in, to wipe the brain

Question try to run, in that tiny space

Will death trap me, when I am asleep

Or will I live to see another day

On reaching afterlife, who’ll collect my soul

Will there be a throng, of agents with wings

Sent by a number of heavens and hells

Certainly, there must be hundreds of them

As many as the gods worshipped on earth

But which one to choose, I would be in a bind

For never in life, I have followed any god