My sleep evades me now, it claws at the corners,
Of my vision; seeps slowly into the mind's eye.
I fear, you see, that my sleep is not mine,
To keep; that in the darkness, it has gone awry.
And not to keep me lying awake, but because,
It has better places to be. i do not want,
For the dusk to leave me, I hate this,
Twilight; and the nature of its taunt.
So I beg for the night to reach me, these rays,
Are no comfort behind closed eyes. i wish for,
A Stygian sky to alight the space that lies,
Inside my skull; no colour to weep from doors.
And windows to be barred from any such lurid hue,
So it not burn through the gloss of my sight,
Towards the fuzz of tangled wires, struggling,
To make sense of why, dreams come not at night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is an interesting study of sleep, well expressed. I like it very much.