These sleepless nights are slowly taking over
Unable to run, to rest, or take cover
Mystic words flash before my eyes
But is it real? Does it matter?
Can I confide in these colored letters?
Or should I let them pass?
Unnoticed, unaffected, unknown by the source
Yet still I hide for the world to see
I choose the magic colors that come
That come at a low, a high, a middle ground
The unexpected plot twists of life
Consume happiness, bring grief, bring confusion
And who is left to cope? None but I.
Left to listen, on occasion to speak
Bring comfort in distress an strength to the weak.
I know they are not my own, those uttered words
Which flow from my mouth to my hand to you
But rather those come from one who knows
Better than I what to do through life
Thank you for the joy you bring
For encouragement you delight to give;
It all seems worth it in the end,
But must the end come so soon?
Sleep is not worth the time, I fear.
The end is near, but never here.
Always near, but seldom here.
Always near. Coming here.
Always near.
Always.
Sleep.