Through the Eyes of and Insomniac

I've grown to hate the night. I never seem to be at peace like everyone else that's fast asleep. I've grown to hate the darkness of the sky because I know as nightfall approaches, so does hours of nothingness around me. Time seems to stop for me, while those who are still in the night feel as if time flies; Time has become my enemy as I watch the clock wishing dawn would come sooner. The only beauty in the darkness is the beauty of the sky, but here there's nothing but traffic lights outside my window. This is not where I long to be and in these dark lonely hours of the night; I sit here and long for the skies back home where the stars are the only lights you see for miles. But I am not home, I am in a lonely box hoping something will come along and distract this wandering mind. I am caged in this world of consciousness never to experience the joys of drifting off into a dreamland where hours feel like they pass in the blink of an eye. For I am a prisoner to my mind.


 

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