All those little eyes in the sky are going to sleep.
We seem to never want to close our eyes even when they get red.
The only time we ever seem to go to sleep is when we know we will never get up
We make as much noise as we can
Because once we close our eyes the noise will stop.
When the day comes we get tired, our world will go away.
The faces disappear.
The color is nothing.
Sound is dead.
Our fear escapes us.
Our troubles leave with all the noise.
This piece
This small
This old
World
It grows tired of us.
When this planet goes to sleep we will too.

My head is thick with clouds.
The sounds coming from the stereo blend
Into a warm blur of hope.
But when the beast from underneath the sand stirs
I must play dead.
The music stops.
The hope is cut short.
Thoughts seep in
And ferment.
I know I must play dead
But the beast knows too well
The dead's heart can never beat so loudly.
My fear and troubles always scream
And the beast rests itself on my chest.
I cannot breathe
And the beast knows it.
Soon,
I will not have to play dead.

Sitting still on a park bench
Gazing at the horizon.
My eyes glow with the failing light.
The sun is now dying.

You can see how sad it is.
It's not as bright as it once was.
With a heavy sigh
It sinks and sets.

No one else watches.
They are ungrateful.
I hold my breath
And make a wish.

When my eyes open
The sky is black.
No stars, no lights.
I am swallowed in black.

I exist by myself.
I am now mankind.
Never again will I wake up.
This is my last day on earth.

A reflection of myself feels more alive than I'll ever be. 
The solid lines of humility and intent are ever present 
Found only in the eyes looking back at me.
No words need exchange. I know what he is thinking.