I lie awake at night

I lay awake at night, awaiting the toll of the bell; the toll of a strange flower, but it always arrives before me, and I lay awake at night, forcing long contorted threads of meaning into my heart. Those threads live a life of secrets. They always arrive before me, and I lay awake at night: drop by drop, the blood spilling; a flow that rides white chargers to arrive before me, and I lay awake at night, not nearly dead enough to hear, not nearly live enough to see - as bleating lambs will view and read me - not nearly close enough