Sleep

[Lawrence]

Thanks guys!
I think I like this edit better...

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“You are a red balloon
The earth cannot possess.
As consciousness forfeits its grip,
You feel yourself ascending-
No more than a shrinking drop
Of blood upon the skin of sky.”

He sighs. Tonight,
Sleep won’t be seduced.
At least, not that kind.
Yes, Tonight, the mind
Is a train dragging sparks
On rails of cold thought.

Outside,
Even the moon is sleeping
Behind blankets of smoke.
Sometimes, a low shine
Finds its way to the window
But that's just nature,
Playing jokes.

But the earth,
The earth is alive with music-
Winter air, tires on snow,
The scent of pine
Rings through night like a note-

He gazes out of the window.

Eventually, sleep arrives.
Not with the lightness of
A red balloon, but concrete tied
To the soul; blood becoming iron-
And consciousness, a ship
With its nose pointed down
And its burning sails ripped.

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I also placed a weak rhyme scheme in this poem, in case you didn't see it (probably my fault)
Sky
Sighs
Kind
Mind
Outside
Sometimes
Etc, Etc.