Night 1 I lie there, gazing at the ceiling The sound of silence clouds my thoughts I've been longing for sleep; salvation in my dreams That moment's arrival is long overdue, so it seems Night 2 Exhaustion rears its ugly head once more Wearily, I slip into bed and hope for the best Something inside tells me tonight I won't rest "Both you and I know my odds are nonexistent You, standing nonchalantly in my door" Blinking once then twice, the figure is no more I'm physically tired and mentally weak My sanity is at stake; I mustn't remain awake Night 3 I must be a prisoner in my own head I'm certain if this keeps up... No A sudden urge for thirst drives me out of bed I trudge down the hall towards... Too much on my mind... Can't think straight... Inadequate rest maims my thoughts One last sigh... Ascend back into bed I stare into nothingness, listen for dark Erase all feeling, just end me now Allow me to trail off and...
Great idea man. Each stanza is longer than the last; the jumble and confusion of Night Three nicely captures the nature of insomnia (this I know well). There is only one thing that bothered me about the piece. Maybe bothered isn't the right word, but it left me feeling somewhat unfinished. Which is kind of a cool way to end a poem about insomnia, since sleep finishes off the day, the insomniac is constantly living the same day over and over again, regardless of the orbiting Earth.
