No Rest

It's almost a chore to get an eyefull of sleep.
Tossing and turning
Staring at the shadows waltzing with moonlight across the ceiling.
Thoughts crashing violently in my mind
 like ocean waves to the shore
Wondering, over thinking, questioning.
Turning and tossing
Tired eyes, late hours, but not a wink of sleep  comes.
Counting the stars till the daylight washes the darkness away
I'm so exhausted and desperately reaching out to it, but it dances just beyond my finger tips.
Ticking of the clock plays the same beat,
It never changes, but always talking,
Chanting that there is no rest for the wicked tonight.