Running down
the corridors,
Drifting ‘round
the room,
Creeping o’er
my coverlets,
Silent as a
tomb.
Grisly,
ghost-like images,
Tangled webs
of thought,
Meaningless,
nonsensical,
With
feelings overwrought.
Why does
sleep elude me,
Why visions
strange appear,
Unbidden
torrents sweep about
And produce
unholy fear?
Where is
that blissful rest?
Have I not
earned the peace,
Of sweet, secure
oblivion,
A respite
from life’s griefs?
But fitfully
I toss,
Barely
submerged in gray,
And too soon
dawns the clarity,
Of the
sunlit, breaking day.
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