Isn't it incessant!?
That tick tick ticking within the walls of my skull.
It will count me down, entrap me in my own noise,
So thunderous!
And I can only pray for release,
Into dullness.

Why must my tired pupils notice everything!?
They rebell against me, despite my pleas to sheen over,
Ignore,
Shut tight and,
Let peace wash me away!

Together, they assault me with experience,
And I am shoved in a wedge of darkness,
To beg for tranquility in vain.

The constant thoughts turning over,
And eyes which take in light...
This proof that I am living,
It is my agony.