Stairway To

I bound the stairs
each night,
with breath of hope
and waking life.
Is it wrong?
When feelings right
to prolong a day
holding onto night.
The old wood creaks
from under heavy feet
tired....from footing me
so in delay
of the ever needed sleep,
that every step in climb
shouts accusations to mind
in the darkness blind
some kind of end sought
then so shall find.
First thoughts from a pillow
are blessings with brief prayer
for family and love lessons
through this life I deem fair;
While I leave this reality
roundabout six plus hours...
into the made up
imagination devours,
resolving actions
all words said,
that at an end
I ascended each wrung
only slated for bed...............