How long the night should waste away,
How dark and void of sleep,
So haunted by the darkness,
By the dreams that thee should reap.
So aching are the hours,
So disturbing shadows sight,
Tortured by the whispering winds,
That whistle through the night.
Alone and lost in empty halls,
An echoing silence screams,
Broken by the hollow mist,
That fades into the dream.
Trapped between the waking,
And the feared unwaking state,
Lost between two worlds,
For fearing it should be too late.
Falling through the darkness,
Through the well that is your mind,
Never knowing what it is,
Inside that you will find.
We drift beyond the realms,
Of all stable reality,
A slave to both most hallowed fears,
And deepest fantasies.
A Plight Of Poetry 
Very exquisitely put. Not only did you land a steady metric for these verses, but they rhymed! It’s a silly thing to point out, but you see free-form poems so often that it’s a delight to see one that breaks the norm.
I’ve always been extremely boorish about poetry, whether it’s reading or producing it, but even so I managed to enjoy this. Thank you for sharing.
Thanks for reading it! I’m not a huge fan of poetry as a whole, but I do like to rhyme from time to time. lol
Ohh I like this a lot. Very inspiring. Keep them coming 🙂
Cheers,
Thanks! 🙂