Belittle my mind as nature does its
Work
The droop in my lids feeds this passion
In these fingers work's a
Bone

See's my head feel a sway
Seen thoughts come and pass
Me
This sleep I must lay
Fog in my clouds as I struggle to
keep

This body on meltdown
Awake I must
Stay
The writing continues
The coffee feels
Great

A zombie this feeling a scream
Be it fake
My life is of dreaming
This writing dictates

Sleep a little my friend
Slowly to fade
The page will be waiting
Wet ink
Still my mend