Can't sleep

Thousand sheep and counting,
Staring at the ceiling,
Cant sleep again,
Mind wandering,
Isomia is like an Unending road,
Haunted memories,
Lonely night lonely home
The only ghost awake,
Tired but cant retire,
Staring at the shelf but cant expire,
Hungry groggy
No taste no feeling,
Peace, i forgot the feeling

Nightmares

thy, thy, thy, I see nightmares in thy eyes, demise, sickness for you are infected, beneath the bed you sleep I see and I feel your body paralyze, can't move, thy thy thy, i see nightmares in thy eyes, im on the bed paralyzed, some lady devilishly says "thy thy thy i see nightmares in thy eyes", says it again ,and again, poisons my mind like lead, then she carves it on the bed spread, on the bed edge, on the wooden grain, while im helpless in this terrain, shocked from fear, overcome by not pain, but by numbness, im feeling helpless as her voice smothers me with the deadly poem, "thy thy thy", i want to get up, feet up, move up, but can't move, body bruised, chained and handcuffed, can't run muck, lying and sitting their like a skinless duck,like a virgin waiting to get...., i feel a grip on my hand, harder, harder, i can't move, i want to scream, i want to shout, i use all my will to burst into tears, but all i feel is the grip getting tighter, and tighter, harder, paralyzed, as i again hear the voice saying "thy thy, nightmare in thy eyes", im scared, hopeless, helpless, smothered by her eerie voice as it sets the room trembling, the cold air screaming, the hair on my head bleaching, white, as if a ghost, but in spite, im still trying to move, i let out a scream, "AHHH!" i look at the clock, its 6:33, it was a dream,

Awake or asleep 2

my eyes open to the darkness, i get out off bed, look for my phone on the floor, check the time, its 1 am, disoriented, confused, i don't know what to do, like horses running, thats how i feel, racetrack stampeding, lost, at the window staring, thoughts like a perfect circle, images flashing back and circling, head moving like an owl,howling at the pitch black scene, wondering if this is a dream or am i hanging out of a cliff to where reality sits, to where fantasy ends, but i guess, could it be the stress, the underlying fact that i have stuff on my mind, so i take a shallow breathe for a moment, getting on my knees, staring at the ceiling like i was praying to an omen, lie down and i wish i could plug my ears, cos the sound won't disappear, ringing, tingling, confusion, like fusion explosion when sound meets silence, the boundaries of insanity are limitless, bottomless,walking down the wooden hallway, staring at an old decrepit portrait of myself, so i sleep, continuing the previous dream, only to be floating like air, but only asleep, deep within a realm where our nonconscious dwells,,

imagery

with my back against the wall, shoulders strapped to the concrete laden walls, hands cuffed, my body hanging, its hot, sweat cascading along the wrinkles of my body, and as i turn my head up, there infront of me, i look and stare, while my body in the air of the heat remains bare, my future on a mantle piece, waiting for me to grab a piece, mentally and soulfully piecing the right ingredients and formulas to overcome my fears, while my peers laugh with beer bellies, while they relax and unwind in smokers paradise, im down in hell, battling with my vices, lending my ear to the preacher that preaches bad advices while im salivating over this whores caress, and my soul is asking how will i overcome this, drenched portrait painted by the colours of this hellish abyss, hells gates are guarded by a preying mantis, preying on the shoulders of the extravagant bitch that swipes her credit card on her next coach bag, but inside she just painfully weeps, a painful screech and cry, why do i have to keep up with societies highway, why am i walking barefoot in the fast lane in the expressway, but i just sit back, write and type the thoughts i just had, expressing away with words, adjectives, and each syllable is a syllabus of each second that occurs in my universe, therefore each verse is a world in itself, waiting to be written, waiting to be carved in facebook, where we place our faces infront of millions, and millions, and millions,... peace

lyrical muscle 2

Through the rainy days, eyes of pain, tears drift away, away into the
canal, where no one can hear my cries, as I was born from my mother’s
naval, though I was conceived through childbirth, the world will never
know of my worth, cos to be worthy is to have gone the path of
unworthyness, then rise from the aches to be king in my own kingdom,
from the seven seas of eyes that have laid in to die, from the breaths
of the skies, to the pits of the rivers abyss, there lies, our deepest
desires, where no one can find, tormenting the ceiling of our cranium
only to find it mirror the faces of people in the insane asylum,
nasty, raspy, that’s how my thoughts taste to me, and to you, as I
kneel to your heel, kissing your ankle, oh flood me with grace that I
may replace every sin that I have made, to only be brought up from the
sick belly in which we feed ourselves with societies sickness, vomit
then swallow, does it taste hollow, then sleep like sleepy hollow,
dream about the million burrows, would you care to take some time,
peep into my mind, borrow some thoughts, from the sick and demised,
surrounded by a golden black woven enterprise, dance to the black
ballerina who tip toes on the verge of anorexia, or just stare at the
obese model who’s reflection reflects her infection, to each its own,
but I say, your mind, your precious mind must be grown, feed it seeds,
like I said, show then artificial sun, watch them grow artificial
leaves. peace