The others slumber without a care,
but in sleeplessness, I create somewhere,
a place in which the mouse does roar,
and where worth is not dictated by war.
The others work whilst zombified,
but in sleeplessness, I conceptualise,
A world in which certain stars do fall,
and where an actual change can start to enthral.
The others continue to pray to the sky,
but in sleeplessness, I’m the one who writes,
the words, that make a brighter day,
that minimise division and dismay.
The others still recycle their pain,
but in sleeplessness, I forge a domain,
where beasts under bridges are re-educated,
to pass their exams, bin the hate they’ve created.
The others remain in their huddle,
but in sleeplessness, I try to un-muddle,
by writing thoughts that are not like theirs,
for their “mob-thought” perpetuates the scares.
The others wake up, to see my tired face,
as in sleeplessness, they see, I’ve made a decayed pace,
I share what I’ve made unto them all,
their reaction’s sadness, but some applaud,
after that, they say unto me, “you should be in bed”
for once, I comply with them, thus, I’ll rest my weary head!