The Nighthawk
I'm a victim of insomnia.
At the witching hour, when the moon hangs in the black sky Like a forgotten dream My thoughts decide To roam endlessly Guinea-fowl’s mating calls In the eucalyptus grove Floats through my window Dreamy with aching longing A soulful song of desire I lose myself in crazy thoughts Cycling rapidly through my mind Insomnia has me firmly in its clutches No rest for the wicked tonight My sins haunt me exhaustively The nighthawk pecks relentlessly With nagging doubts and questions No order to this mayhem Scattering in different directions The Sandman waits unreachable
The nightmare of insomnia, which feels like an intrusive presence, an unwanted companion that disrupts the natural rhythm of life and rest.
But the bonus is that I have plenty of time to explore and create digital art!
An enchanting description of insomnia. Thank you!