THE RUDE ALARM CLOCK

6am the alarm rings.
Rudely, my peace which seemed but eternal is interrupted.
Dazed and confused, my mind runs back.
Gathering and organizing,
The sketchy road map it drew,
Before jumping into the abyss of the unknown.
Running to the bath, my feet lead.
The race for survival begins.
Lives depend on me.
On my going and my coming.
Home, the place I shut off the world, behind me.
And oh, just when I am content,
My mind must start laying a new roadmap.
Only to be gathered again.
When?
After the rude alarm clock sounds.