Insomnia

When in the abyss of life’s darkest plunges,
The deceitful whispers of despair fill my mind like a storm,
Replenishing the ravenous, unforgiving oceans of crushing despair.
The lies of my mind begin to interfere,
But as I unwillingly obsess over the chaotic, pounding dangers of thought,
I desperately grasp onto the power of my own will.

But as the titanous ship of sheer hope navigates through the treacherous oceans, which launch wave upon wave of woeful dissonant thoughts,
The weary crew, battered by storms of paralyzing doubt,
Sharpen their knives for the captain’s mutinous fall.

While my body seeks to continue forth,
Long-dormant hijackers pry open the walls—once towering, now trembling—sacred, fragile temple of my psyche.

In these fleeting moments of desperation,
I begin to finally understand, and sympathize, with the misunderstood titans
Of pushing anxiety and pulling nefarious thoughts,
Begging me to shut out the rampant dangers that fill my surroundings.

But then the cries and shouts of fear—the scariest, yet most necessary voice—rattle through the skin and tissue of my domain, splintering the sinew of my very being.
It is when I hear this hopeful voice,
Wrongly misidentified as man’s greatest fatal flaw, that my heart warms to tears;
For then I know tomorrow will come,
For fear, the unyielding guardian of tomorrow’s gates,
Promises the hope of the storm’s calming end.