Midnight Mayhem

Insomniac, is what they call it,

for these past few moons,

I dream of passing the zero hour

With my eyes closed,

In deep sleep,

And my thoughts, not at war at least.

T'is as if the darker the night gets,

the vivid my vision for all the

unfathomable, unreal events become.

Emotions explode, answers flow in my veins,

Words I couldn't use to stand up for myself,

once upon a time, cut my flesh.

The inner child cries, the present pleads to thrive

Euphoria in the head, heaviness in my soul

And tears down my face.

Oh! This damn dead of the night

Perhaps is the graveyard of my past

on the sands of time.

The relics of which lie buried deep within,

But the ghosts of which come alive.

So for me, midnight comes in shades,

Shades of happy, sad, outbursts of both

If you will,

Of rage of a woman, of wilderness,

Tenderness too, sometimes lust,

Or carrying the weight of an unrequited love it stands,

Of fear, threat, but of some inexplicable assurance too!

An entire series of midnight mayhem it is!