Like a runaway train with no direction,

my thoughts are a raging fire.

Each one caught in a spider’s web.

Enemies that seek to conspire.

Darkness captures the night sky,

yet sleep is lost within the turmoil.

Worries and fears, a stormy sea.

A pot that is about to boil.

The clock ticks on, minutes become hours.

A tornado of icy insecurities.

A maze with no sign of escape;

The chaos fueled by many identities.

In this wakeful night’s darkened space,

I long for rest and peace.

Yet within the prison, thoughts persist.

Like a spirit lingering of the deceased.

The moon above, a silver glow,

lights up the thoughts within.

Haunting whispers in the night’s breeze,

making my mind spin.