The Night Cries

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Well, it’s 3 a.m. and I’m still up
Don’t have so much of a sleep pattern, it’s more a random guess
Things kinda happen when they want
A holistic way of living that used get me by, more or less

But the system’s not holding together
Which is why pervasive thoughts invade the dark of night
When defense is weakened by comfort’s lies
Forcing deep subconscious stirrings, unable to run but unwilling to fight

Distorting lines that were straight by light of day
New realities forming in the mist, but not emerging from the gloom
The constant tingle, creeping up the spine
Reminiscent of that feeling when someone walks across your un-dug tomb

Unable even to complete a simple train of thought
The “rhubarb” of random crowd noises , a deafening echo within my own head
Chiding, jeering, mocking.. an imagined assault
A carcass strewn battlefield of reality, from which this tortured mind has fled

Seeking sanctuary as a way to ease the pain
Which I suppose would be best served by trying to close these eyes
To sleep, find some peace, maybe the voices will fade?
But it’s 3 a.m. and I am sat here.. And I’m still listening to their cries

Billy 30/12/14

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