And when I close my eyes under the sunless sky, I hear that tune… the morbid reverberations of some menacing string instrument, and the intense, cultish chant that whispers into the dark. The murmurs of men who have reached into the abyss and lifted of it a palmful of its spring waters to sup their own primal desires.

And no matter my pending evolutions or higher thinking, no matter what dances I waltz about in the day, the music of the night always makes me smile…

One response to “Insomnia

  1. The night is for ideas that creep along the floorboards, scurrying around the dust bunnies beneath the cabinets as crawl, scamper and invade the thoughts of the day. Like Applebee that somehow ties the subtlies together amongst the scattered clues of time – the night crawls toward the day. Its like that one thing you forgot to write down or check that somehow keeps crawling along the floorboard of ideas.

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