I could promise myself discipline with the daylight, but what if I told you that I lied under the moonlight? Sinners never sleep, sinners never sleep.
They lie awake and talk with the wings of Gabriel. They don't shut their eyes; there are stories in the picture houses of their own. Of lie and deciet. And guilt and anguish.
They'll never sleep.
They'll howl with the night and forget why they were meant to darken their hearts to match the sky.
They'll never glow. They'll never beat. I'll never sleep. I'll never sleep again.
From a sad pathetic journal entry. 16th April 2015, 1.59a.m.