It's 2 a.m. again.
Most is silent.
An occasional shout
Or a car revving in the distance.
Not much to hear.
The rain falls slowly, gently.
It shows a mercy
To the ground below it.

It's 2 a.m. again.
Sleep won't come.
The mind a race,
Swirling and twisting.
Past and present and future.
Colliding, consuming
Until there's nothing.
Nothing at all.

It's 2 a.m. again.
The whispers start.
The songs of hope and despair,
Calling for a rebellion.
Resistance is slim.
The offered promise,
Temptation at its finest.
Refusal is impossible

It's 2 a.m. again.
All is quiet.
The thirst quinched,
With unholy liquids.
Everything slows to a crawl.
Falling deeper into the dark,
Heavier and heavier.
Silence.