Insomnia Poem by Niall Boland

Damn you dreary mortals confident in your grip of this world, in the way you can sleep so easily without hendrance or thaught sound asleep in your confidence. A mind like fire needs water or time to quench its soul and succumb to the world of the half dead. My bane and shallow pride is my nocturnality to lie awake while many fools sleep and dream of things that shall never pass, for my dreams are infront of me and yet just out of reach but i am ever closer, to die knowing i brushed them once would be the hope and betrayal of my life for a man is never supposed to have his dreams. Dreams are the motivation that sets us about our journey when all that matters in the end is the trail we fallowed.