Insomnia

The bed is warm and yet I cannot sleep;
I can't escape the worries that I brought;
I long to have my rest and dream so deep,
that I can not make sense of any thought.

Oh, where can this elusive rest be sought?
I am so tired I could nearly scream;
The well of dreams is dry, I find but drought;
My hope is now reduced to just a gleam.

Then in the night I have a waking dream;
I know for sure my eyes are not yet shut;
I think my mind is tearing at the seam;
It's repercussion for my daily rut.


I hear from no clear source an eerie song;
I know I have been stressed out for too long.