No Rest for the Weary

Like the sun;
rousing up for the rhythm,
And now burning,
once and a while
smile at the rhythm
Scatter yourself
and the day,
eventually,
the day recedes
to be blessed by the moonbeams,
once and a while
thinking about the moonbeams
And muster yourself for tomorrow,
eventually;
you'll rouse up,
for there's no rest even for the weary,
unless you say you're done.