here's to being an insomniac
The sweet melody of an unsung song plays on the wind of the forest of my mind.
It teases me with the ever elusive tempress know as sleep and dreams.
Like a lone wolf spereated from it's pack I wait on the edge of the scene, my lighter illuminated my surrounds that are as barren as the worst wastelands.
Laughter floats by as the song dies, the wind picking up and nipping at my body.
My ears tense wanting nothing more than to be apart of that laughter, to run with the pack once again.
Instead I'm alone, awake and singing my own said tune to my only compainion, the moon, who watches with me being as we are the only two awake.