I've been down many roads,
Called a lot of places home.
Made more than a few friends
Intending to forget none.
Words may live forever,
Ink has a life of it's own.
My letters have lost all meaning,
The messenger goes on and on.
My clock keeps on ticking,
Night gives way to dawn.
The old unwilling to wither
Wishing to see the new born.
Why are there stars
That have to be so far?
Why do they thus shine
And still be a part of night?
Why do I dream
For what I only can wish?
And why I have to wish
For what that's not just a dream?
I am tired, feel sleepy
But tommorrow is where I don't want to be
It's past too late
Yet I don't want to go to bed
Because then
I wouldn't know when
Shall come the morning
Without a warning
And will just start the day
The "I don't want" way
So I won't sleep
A promise I know I won't keep
After an hour or two
Like all, I'll lose this battle too
But untill then I'll fight
To try and outlive the night
ci•pher (also cy•pher) /ˈsī-fər/ noun
1 a secret way of writing, especially one in which a set of letters or symbols is used to represent others
2 a code: a message in cipher
3 (formal, disapproving) a person or thing of no importance.
4 (BrE) the first letters of sb’s name combined in a design and used to mark things.
— Middle English cifre, from Old French, from Medieval Latin cifra, from Arabic ṣifr, from ṣafira, to be empty, translation of Sanskrit śūnyam.
