Insomnia thou art my lovely mistress,
Enticing me further into the darkest mornings,
And then leaving my bed lonely at day break,
to go find another man.
Still, half loyally, you come back to me...
And oh, though otherwise I try, fitfully,
I find myself always opening my sheets,
And snuggling up close to you,
As if the cold of death and desperation,
is my only warmth.
It begets only painful awakenings,
And much like a good mistress,
The womb of your efforts,
Bears no fruit,
Nay just desecration of my psyche,
Just a half step in one realm,
and a half step half asleep.
Ah, what should I do,
Fight your presence off dearly?
I'm afraid I"ve had you round so long,
I can't remember myself lonely.
Imagine that, I guess,
I'll have to settle for your back handed love,
And ponder many more twilight mornins,
With you, my beloved insomnia.