Sleepless Night

Sitting awake in the death of the night,
where stars begin to fail,
THe soft glow of the screen before me,
a silent terror of tonight,
A dead weight on my heart, dusty
and clouded eyes of mine, wondering.

How did I end up here, alone and forsaken?
Whose blood is it that cakes my hands,
darkening to brown, the red giving way?
Bereft of senses, escaping the tide,
that's clamping upon my throat,
smothering the sob that rises.

A man's tears, they are precious,
And never shall I shed one,
for they are a strength answerable
to none, except myself alone.
And thus I sit, awake,
Still wondering at my predicament.

My eyes refuse to close, denying
me even the sanctuary of nothingness.
A single sigh enters,
through the almost closed window.
I look up to see the curtains flutter
And die again, like hope in my life.

In the basest of human desires,
I look for solace, and find it too.
But at a cost of losing my sanity?
But no.. even that hope deserts me.
I sense yet the approaching morning,
and am afraid again.

With the passing hours, realization
Dawns, coming together with the
memory of my blood soaked hands,
and the pain inside, that hurts more.
THe wind dies down, patiently waiting
for a cry from me.

For a moment I feel someone,
standing behind me, almost..
Assuring me I wasn't alone.
False hope, as always..
For noone ever shall care,
like noone ever has.

The blood hardening on my hands,
is my own, As is the wound deep
inside. The marks are long gone.
the pain yet remains, blunt
and hurts all the more for that.
A reminder of my naive thoughts.