Sonnet #119

There was a time when I would stay up late
For no reason other than the slight chance
That she might respond, feeling an innate
Desire not to sleep, but to romance.

But now I feel no such predilection
Towards any woman nor any man
I’ve met recently. Without direction
I wander. I’ve only dreams and no plan.

I’ve no motivation that’s external;
If only I felt the presence of God
Or His antithesis more infernal.
But I don’t. So I yawn, and off I nod.