Insomniactic Thoughts

Again Insomnia strikes with force on my imagination.

The Imagination of what might be threatens as reality. As Such visions of promising paradise flicker on and off like a dying bulb Swinging aimlessly from side to side awaiting for the pitch darkness to arrive.

Where the only sanctuary is within my own solitude writing to explain my random thoughts within this period of time. Vent might I must to my notebook where ink and led stains the pages with my own disgust, pleasures and stress as it been a long while my friend since I last wrote in you.

Again Insomnia strikes with force on my imagination.

The Imagination of what might be threatens as reality. As Such visions of promising paradise flicker on and off like a dying bulb Swinging aimlessly from side to side awaiting for the pitch darkness to arrive.

Where the only sanctuary is within my own solitude writing to explain my random thoughts within this period of time. Vent might I must to my notebook where ink and led stains the pages with my own disgust, pleasures and stress as it been a long while my friend since I last wrote in you.