It’s nearly midnight and I should be sleeping
But thoughts of anxiety and anguish penetrate my mind, they are creeping.
As the ebon circles under my eyes grow darker
My cognizance distorts to a despondent state of preoccupancy
Resulting in kaput days that feel long
And shuddersome causing me to waken in hostility.
As each day my face grows more pale
My circles more prominent
But sleep won’t come
As I drift off, I’m suddenly roused with sweat and nightmares
My soul feels hopeless
As night turns into day
Now it’s too late
And off to work I go in my wretched state