Sleep

A constant torment that renders within,
poking at the brain,
constantly reminding of the pain.
The colors surrounding cease to exist.
While the things of seeming fathomable,
become a little to none reality,
the room spins.
As if it is a child's toy.
Drumming against the ground,
causing a large mess.
Let the color seep away,
tell yourself that it helps to pray.
Constant nights of agonizing loneliness,
this gap only to be filled by itself.
Sleep is a necessity they say,
but most times with one hour sleep,
one can get through the day.
Using every final fiber in one's being
to finish the days job.
Memory becomes a constant blur,
the timeline smashing together,
becoming incomprehensible.