Drawing Depths

In every ounce of energetic compulsion
there exists the fortitude of greatness.
And in the hours when no sleep will come
and all the night is afire with lamplight,
there is the stillness that pries the forge
of brain and muscle to extract a truth
covered in lies.  The eyes of
the stillness are open wide
and the knife they hold cuts
with precision, unmatched.
Take hold of wide eyes
in the stillness of waking nights.
Cut deeper with blades of impeccable thought.
Draw from deeper wells than
ropes spun with facsimile
can hold.  Draw from the stillness
the grains of water
that catch fire in the night
while all others sleep.

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