My poetry/prose

The Insomniac's chant

The insomniac stares on blankly at the vacumn of space in front of her. As if grasping an inch of empty air,she ventured to grab that imaginary rope in front of her. Like a noose she hung it limply ard her wrangled hands,like a ladder she wound her nubile body tightly ard it,as if she believed it could be her stairway to heaven. She continued dilating her vacant irises,almost deep in an abyss of hollow thoughts as she pondered the immediate and secondary existence of the characters that made up her life.

An afterthought. And the cognitive memory of her kins and friendships triggered some humane connection.Ah life,friends,love,family.

She felt sleep lulling her into that restful land and like an agreeable puppet she laid her eyes to a close and felt the back of her head falling into a bottomless pit. No longer was it heavy,no longer did she feel the weight of the world on her shoulders. There should not be a need to. There were suffering children,poverty stricken,disease laden lands. She would save them in her slumber like a dignified heroine,she would be the robin hood for all women and all the marginalised folk who were alienated at some point. She would be a martyr,until it would stop and the awakening inevitable.

She would never wake up again, it was the only way.