It was 4 am past 10

It was 4 am past 10
You fall from the cobweb net
Like the tired insect
Got a free fall
On your bed
The switch was on
The machine still glowing
Green
The web was carrying your
Magical presence
But it was all false existence
You already have left the place
To sleep
For a feast of calmness
Nestled within your
Lone pink palm
It was 4 am past 10
The machine was still
Telling false
You were only on your bed
Opening the ocean deep eyes
Wishing gentle lips
To close ...
The  hungry machine
And your
Tired eyes
Longing for long long years...