A piece of night has broken and flown into my room, hovering overhead as a reminder most reproachful to sleep. Sleep again for oblivion beckons.
In a shroud of unknown to travel inside of a portal reserved for me, which fashions itself each day anew.
Traverse those roads, mystic tunnel of continuous changes and keep walking, stumbling, falling, bruising until there comes a time when I open my eyes to a moment come new in existence.
For each second is fresh, newly created and dead just as soon, never to be resurrected.
In thus dead pixels of time a silent dark wormhole of choosing to hike through at night.. dreams are not a promise, nightmares a luxury.
Tonight I sleep again..
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