Insomniacs Despair

I am both tired and wide awake, how can this be?
Stuck in the in between like a horror story or a tale of parallel worlds.

Sometimes people talk of a dream world, a novel idea it seems,
But the more insomnia reigns the more I wonder,
Perhaps dream world is a place I cannot remember how to find.

I’ve lost my way, so roam the silent hours aimlessly not knowing where to go.
What to do?
‘The inbetween’, a greying place, not bright or dark but blurred like my tired eyes.
This wakeful nightmare becomes peopled and scenarios form of their own volition.

Shadowy forests obscurred in fog masking the way.
Weather takes on a maniacle ferosity, a mind of its own.
A guide? Or a snake, to lead astray? Who knows.
One despairs in silence.
You would think insomniacs should meet together,
There are so many, yet all pass by these lonely hours in their own private world.
An individual inbetween, trying, hoping, praying, to find the ever elusive land of nod.

The world of deep, sanity restoring sleep that so many need.
A journey many have forgotten the way. What is the answer I wonder?
Where is the way out?