The Search for Slumber....

blessed are they who sleep when eyes close for the day
free from a cluttered mind and an equally uncluttered heart
they are not burdened with the onus of creating art
their emancipation lies in the mundane..pedestrian smiles
their journey has been and always will be a couple of miles
they wouldn't know how it feels, to lie awake through centuries
watching the sky turn onyx to ocher
never witnessing what wonders the first light of dawn has to offer
they can't comprehend the beauty of living with a vacant heart and a replete mind
for it is indeed rare to come across our kind
we paint from the fragments of our dreams..even though the slumbers are long lost
we selflessly renounce warmth for the love of frost
we tredge though debris of ages in search of a memory golden
we cherish and grant life to all that is forgotten and olden
the quotidian holds no appeal...what we crave is to be enkindled
for we too live in the hope of that day when spent, our eyes would close once the day dwindles...