3 AM

Before the sky was touched
in patches
here and there,
with pink and song;

Before breath could deepen
and grow heavy,
to blow like the breeze
in the stillness
of blue prison walls;

Before the heart could slow
its furious
rat-a-tat-a-tat-tapping,
and quench the fire it fed
in young veins;

Before exhaustion beat out
wrath and sorrow,
put out rebellion
with a mighty hiss...

There was wakefulness,
in the dusky moments before dawn.

It was 3 AM, before sleep came.