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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #2324127
Insomnia, not for the faint-hearted
Weave now in strands of misery,
The warp of lies, the weft of sin.
Fatigue that haunts my sleepless dreams,
Palsied, stretches, reaches for my soul.
Shaking my meagre confidence to fall.
Silently into Mariana deep despair.
Submerging all joy. Denying all comfort.
Leaving me prey to unforgiven slight,
To tasks undone, to threats unmanifest.
Chronic iteration upon iteration.
Woven without relief, respite or resolution.
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