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Insomnia.
Gripped by fear, or followed by death? None of your energy is now left, but why are you forbidden to rest? Locked out of dreams unlike the rest?
Be it guilt that stops you from laying down your head? Lashed and tortured inside your bed? Do you still see their faces at night? Their ghosts haunting you even in light.creating your melancholy
Is it worry that fuels your melancholy? Young and weak and filled with folly? Now you will never rest, but only at the sandman's behest.
Scratching and scraping, never escaping, a prison of the mind, an invisble binding, stopping you from reaching better tidings.
What else could it possibly be? A lovesick heart tears you apart? Your soul is dying in the dark alone, where can you rest if not at home?
Is it addiction that keeps you awake? That insatiable pang your cigarettes make? Or is it the money, drugs, food? That lock you awake and leave you doomed.
Now is it physical pain driving you insane? A scorching strain keeping you from that restful plain? Best toughen up, otherwise you're straight outta' luck.
Wishing, fishing, anything for rest, think of all the fortunates who are sleeping like the rest, functioning at their best, leaving you in detest.
The long night draws on, you know soon that you'll be gone, will you arrive to dreams and kindess?
Or nightmares, insanity, blindness?
AkulaTHEPoet - 2/6/16
This one's personal.
As a sufferer of autism, one of the many symptoms is erratic/troubled sleep patterns, in my case: a complete inability to fall asleep. This piece was written upon years of lonely nights staring into the dark in frustration, and later from elements of my depression. I would ask that you take special note of the choice of words and phrases I use here, and hope you appreciate that this one is 'from the heart' so to speak, thank you for reading, and hope you enjoyed/will enjoy the poem!
Спасибо! Я благодарю!