I do not get much rest when I lay myself to sleep,
For I'm tortured by the things I once had but couldn't keep,
I'm thrown back into situations that I've kept locked away,
Things that I'd like to forget, games I no longer play,
My dreams are no retreat, quite the opposite in fact,
My dreams pick apart the sanity i try to keep intact,
The only sanity I own and it dangles on a thread,
As the monsters swing and claw, it hangs too far above their heads,
Although I see them getting closer every single night,
There is no way for me to stop them, no way for me to fight,
So i choose to stay awake with reality abound,
Until the darkness drags me back into the metaphoric ground.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Funny the things we ponder over while trying to catch that ever elusive sleep. Nicely done!