Insomnia has led me down a familiar path.
Back into the comforting arms of a soothing whisper that caresses my soul and lulls me into a trance.
And all the while my body is serene,
My mind is a swirling vortex of and apprehension and bedlam and clamour and doubt and ennui and frustration.
Of greed and hurt and indecision.
I then remove myself from this growing oblivion,
To allow only silence to flow so gracefully into the tortuous canal beside my weary eyelids.
For is that not the truest of music?
Yet still I know not of sleep.