Extravagance of Dreaming

After a night full of insomnia
I silently and slowly crawl into the sheets
With my tired and bloodshot eyes
And as the rays of the sunshine knock on my windowpane
I leave them unheard and my eyes close to darkness
But before my mind can form a single thought
My silly mind, yet as tricky as Satan himself
It pushes me right from the edge of consciousness
To the familiar uncharted canyon of dreams
And as I fall through this terrible unending fall
My voice, scissoring its way through the winds
Ask the same question that it had asked every other night
To my very own terrible-horrible duo, the heart and the mind
Inquiring where they were when my tired consciousness was a funambulist
Balancing itself between the sleeping draught and the want for the extravagance dreaming

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