Was it weakness to want
The warmth of a bed
Blankets wrapped about
Quiet scent of fresh sheets
No whispers, no shouts;

To want a lull in the world inside
Nothing but stories
Played out by a limitless reality
Anythings and nothings
Of human imagination;

Was it weakness to want that
That lovely lightless length
Of time and space
To be stretched out across
My life, my being, my all?

So easily could I have slipped
Into good night, everlasting.