While all the normal souls are sleeping

I am wide awake, alone

My mind is screaming when it should be dreaming

I am lost in this cyclone

My body fights against exhaustion

Stubbornly denying peace

Should I seek a deal with Faustian

& let my soul decay, decrease?

I am already fading

I am a walking shell

I am so tired of this crusading

I am over living in this hell

If I could, I'd sleep forever

& dream my way to perfect bliss

What a marvellous endeavour

To be free at last from this abyss

But while all the normal souls are sleeping

I am wide awake, alone

My body screaming when it should be dreaming

& I am lost in this cyclone

©CJ

Walking taut tightrope of insomnia

somersaulting off edge of nightmares

tumbling without safety net balm

plunging, red puffy eyes wide open

watching end rise to curtsy at my feet

vanilla morning light sets me free.

Awake. I stir. I twist. I turn. I roll. The languorous night... expecting sleep...renders me still more restless. Lightning thoughts rend the stillness. A word creeps in. What a ponderous thing it is! How anxious it makes me! Alive. It throbs - it pesters - it harrasses. Obsessed with such a weighty word it impresses itself upon me. Like some twisted, ironical fate in nature. Like that parasitic Cordyceps to the mind of the ant, that destroys its host while ensuring its own propagation, this word permeates and pervades. Transfixed, this word keeps me awake at night. Oh word, “Insomnia”, how I lose sleep over you! How you keep me up at night - how you torment me!