Running from sleep
Fighting its dreary eyes
Passing through all the streets

Sprinting in familiar surroundings
Begging for something to remember
From the days, I swore to forget
In this place some time ago

Screeching winds of comforting voices
Engulf the road populated by corpses
Slowing to a walk, the stairs appear
Welcoming me down

Silently descending,
A bed made for one
Settling six feet under
Sleep comes not as war