Wipe the sleep old man, your hell is not yet over
your body has fell more times than you can remember yet,
mind sharp but imprisoned, chained silver streaked serpentine beasts
coiled around your limbs making you their supper

Wipe the sleep off your weathered bones,
etched and tethered with lost lives and loves lost
you tower carrying these white obelisks, a memorial to the forgotten

Wipe the sleep from your palms, the dirt caked under your nails
callouses all over a reminder of times torn hard
never forget those hands baked in committing such hate still managed to cradle life

Wipe the sleep off under your eyes,
the dust from yesterday’s oasis dreams;
drought-ridden now
there was a time when you couldn’t keep hidden,
the torrential salt that heavily flowed
how would the soil bear any fruit there

Wipe the sleep from your heart, empty
cathedrals are hollow and dusty, faith no longer resides here
darkness should only be the residence of once weres,
let that fountain run once more.

Wipe the sleep from your feet old man
your journey has just begun.