5:50 a.M.

I sit here awake again,
Trying to find,
Which amongst the meager devices I've got,
Will keep me sane through sleepless nights.

And typing this empty soliloquy,
Penning parabolic privation,
I am no longer master to my miseries...
I am banished, in angst-imposed abdication,

But why emote in such a manner?
Why can't I state my condition,
In simpler candor?
If it were possible, I'd make the necessary omissions.

And tell you plainly that I'm haunted,
By the ghosts of living lovers past,
And so extremely daunted,
That I do not wake until it's time for noon repast.

So introspectively, I am weeping,
At the secrets I am keeping,
And cannot bare, so am not sleeping,
Until the time when birds are "cheep"-ing...

Thus the vicious cycle goes,
And when it stops,
No dead deity knows,
And so my heart drops,
And my blood slows,
And ,with night, day swaps,
And evening bestows,

Upon me an Insomnia which only stronger grows....