Life of the Insomniac
By ©Mistress of Darkness
When twilight hour comes and sleep is at steady hand
my body grows week and my eys grow dim, and yearns for dream land.
But no sleep comes my way, and hours ramble by
As my body stays awake, and my eyes begin to cry.
Pain slowly enters my body now limp
and in my neck is not a stranger to the awfull crimp.
But still sleep escapes this body that stays awake all night
And dream land grows, further, further out of sight.
Tis the life of an insomniac that I do live through.
When sleep is gone, and night time hours are to few.