Its one of those nights once more –
The dark outside seems like a thousand scorching suns;
The silent ceiling fan of last night
Seems like a rioting crowd;
And eyes, like a badly packed suitcase,
Keeps opening up.
There is no sleep,
For you keep running in –
Through doors long shut,
Windows barred twice,
Roads replaced with blocks of resolve;
Yet,
You keep flitting in,
And theres no sleep…