Who said "you'll sleep when you're dead"?

As I drift between these moments of air, I wish to sleep, yet sleep is not here. He hides in shadows of dreamless nights and presses down upon my pulse. The beat is frantic and filled with toxic air. But, yet, I seek this enemy of the aware.

I have visited those visions of Cocteau and rhyme for no reason but, to let these thoughts flow. How hollow this rambling on goes and still my eyes of light refuse to close.

It appears as if my wish to let go, would find me in the morning, mourning the moments that I know are ahead for this foolish old soul. Believe me when I say, it all had to happen this way, if there was ever going to be a chance for me to break free from this external resistance, a semblance, a blip on the circle.........that I have SPENT my life fighting against.

List, oh list.....