Insomniac

I am the insomniac.

I am the tears that touch the pillow
I am the vine around the willow;
I am the indifference in you heart
I am the tricks of which you were a part.

I am the embers that light the shadows
I am the lonely figure in the meadow;
I am the ache of your pain
I am the time you lost your way.

I am the scratch of the pen
I am the scene from back then;
I am the blinded eyes that see
I am the one you want to be.

I am the sleepless dreams
I am the nights that scream;
I am the childish bandaid on your cuts
I am the one that has no luck.

I am the smoke that burns your nose
I am the thorny black rose;
I am the depession of tomorrow
I am the years that will follow.

I am the darkness that ensues;
I am the truth.