Wednesday, April 3, 2019

The Insomniac


As the dark envelops the earth like a pall of gloom,
I stay wide awake in my room,
Tossing and turning in the bed,
I wait for the sleep to come to my aid.
But sleep remains aloof,
Ever elusive,
No matter how much I cajole it
To descend on my drooping eyelids.
Instead I drift into a fitful slumber,
Only to get awake by a lurid nightmare.
Slowly the darkness fades away,
And the first rays of sun lights up the horizon;
I silently pray for serenity to return
And all turbulence to be gone.

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