What Keeps Me Up At Night Poem by Ibn Ali

Hate me if you choose,  
Set me up to lose,  
The hangman's knot is coarse,  
It imprints a braided ring around my neck,  
I'm dripping beads of sweat,  
Alone in one's own company,  
And it seems a certain death,  
I'm complacent,  
Maybe it's just overwhelming weakness,  
All my failures stand to greet me every evening,  
As if to greet their chieftain,
It's like there's thinning air,
Preventing me from sleeping,  
I feel I'm suffocating,  
Gasping, drawing breaths and grasping,  
And I feel the ground beneath me start to give,  
Which makes it hard to live,  
I see the vultures congregate,  
Here's a pound of flesh, eat,  
Another? I'll prepare a feast,  
If you lack heart,  
Then I'll cut mine out for you,  
What a fitting meal you're dining to,  
I'll pour out no wine for you,  
To alleviate your guilt,
I lack the strength to be my better self,  
And I have a muse,
But my heart needs to make my mind enthused
Or maybe my soul's just in poor health.