Dreams for Insomniacs

How is it that I falter when some have neither food nor water but, I lay awake nearly breaking apart at night fighting to sleep.
The tears come but I know not where the well spring flows from.
My mind fails me on a daily basis, I have come to accept this.
What I cannot accept is that I have little worth upon this earth.
I have neither direction nor ambition.
Sometimes its hard to bring myself to brave the craven world even in my own mind.
Were that I were blind to the injustice of this accursed malady that I call mine.
Depression is the only thing that makes an impression on this hellscape, I call my mind.
Even as I pen this poem
They tell me I should be sleeping yet here I am.
Weeping for the sleep that escapes me.
Doing my best rendition of woe is me, auditioning for the part in a play called first world problems.
This may seem trivial to you dear reader but it bleeds me all the same like any knife could.
Not bleeding of blood but of my last remains of sanity.
I see no reason for vanity in this world who gave you the right to judge?
I care not for what you think, in the end all that matters is that I judge myself to have been worthy of my birth.   – Lord Scara, Ageless Grimscribe
My mind fails me on a daily basis, I have come to accept this.


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