It’s like a sickness.
A raised temperature,
An unfocused delirium,
A feeling of coming death.
Midnight creature, forced,
Awakened at unnatural
Hours of the day
In a battle for survival.
A sense of nausea
Unable to be quashed
Temples pounding, unyielding,
The coming of the sun.
The early bird,
Gets the worm,
Yet the moonlit tiger
Catches the larger prey.
akervand 