I lay awake, staring out the window into the darkness of the night.

And as the insomnia keeps me from sleep,

and my lucid dreams invite me ever deeper into the abyss,

I stare out the window into the darkness of the night,

and find the empty blackness to be boring.

As I struggle against the thoughts that torment my mind,

and force my body to give into the much needed rest that it refuses,

I look forward to the adventures that await as I prepare myself to dream.

Yet as I stare out the window into the darkness of the night,

the empty and darkened blue does little to inspire my mind,

and I find myself bored.

If only there were a star or two,

I could dream about the romantic nature of a summer night sky.

If there were a cloud afloat,

I could dream about the freedom that flight would bring.

And yet,

I lay awake,

staring out the window into the darkness of the night.

I let out a discontented sigh,

and my body reluctantly gives into the much needed rest that it rejects.

If only the sky tonight weren't so boring,

I could maybe dream

a wonderful dream.