The Elusive God

 

It’s like every day, from the moment you wake up 

There’s haze floating inside your brain

Fog that thickens as the hours go by

Days sometimes pass by like a blur

Sometimes, excruciatingly slow

Like every second feels like an hour

You look out your window

And a breeze that smells of death and disease

Caresses your face

You go out of your house to try to walk

And calm your heartbeat down

But you hear footsteps behind you

You look back only to see Oizys

In her flowing black gown, following you

You soon realize that the only escape from it is to shut your brain and sleep again

Chase pretty dreams

So you go back home and desperately climb up your bed

But then, sleep, like the many gloomy days before

Comes to you like a tired, two-century-old tortoise

As everyone wants a piece of Hypnos

He knows not who to console

A god ever so elusive