An Insomniac's Lullaby

It is 2 AM by the room clock, Body, helpless, detached; done Brain, still active. Heart wanting the sweet melody of music. Alas, the speaker needs the electric embrace of replenishment. It is 2 AM by the room clock, Body, makes a sound that the brain rejects. The heart craving for notes, noise; chaos. Dejected it lays on the bed, hopeless like this damn night. It is 2 AM by the room clock, The body is content, the brain not so much. Trying to make sense of the Sonance. The heart, relieved, entrained with the vibrations. Alas, It is the spring, poking from within the bed. In this sanctuary, where dreams take flight, where silence unleashes its fury. This bed spring sings without fear, and draws sleep a bit nearer. With each creak and a crack, it creates a melody for the heart to unwind. Verily, it happens at 2 AM every night. Prompt: Spring (Bed)