It’s 2 AM

his tired eyes are
wide awake
shining
from realizing
a dream

he slows down
his breathing,
controlling.

his fingers
doing their own
thinking
type furiously
on the keypad.

the dreams.
the plan.
the possibilities.
the outcomes.
every tiny explanation
his soul provided

and was made up of.

Legacy.

It’s 3 AM

his tired eyes
are dead
but his dreams
now have
a structure of words.

forever alive
in his fingertips.