2:57 am

I turn a groggy eye to the clock by my bed,
Look at that cold display and groan,
“It’s 2:57 am and I’m still awake.”
Well it is a small surprise to me
Given the state of my head.
Days weeks, months and years
Pass by in a flurry.
Events recorded, people met, things done,
Successes, failures, lost opportunities –
The bombardment continues,
My mind a beleaguered hovel
In the midst of a raging battle.
But a small flame burns in this hut,
A source of life, a foundation for stability,
A focus for calm
A smile lights my agonised face,
My eyes begin to droop.
I explore the flame, I appreciate its simplicity
My eyes close.

The flame still burns.