Insomniac's Hell Poem by Tim Labbe

Along the darkest streets,
dawn is an eternity away.
The faintest noise disturbs
shadows within the gloom.

Prisoners of the nighttime
live with a fear of daylight.
Bitterness breathes hard
in blacked-out alleyways.

Mortals taste the metallic
tongue of spit-out love,
giving insatiable insomniacs
something they can never savor.

Sadly, lust chews the thick
harsh rind of parched hope.
Shackled in the darkness.
Swallowing only the bland void.

Morning awakens the cries
of lonely echoes, hoping to
escape another night of emptiness.
A night of sleepless desolation.

Living in my insomniac's hell.