Clairvoyance of Insomnia
Every night,
Down this road I walk,
Clairvoyant in perpetual insomnia,
Pencil etches of truth and fantasy,
Criss-cross my vision,
Fourteen cups of 5am coffee,
Still no closer to reality,
A solitary car passes me,
Like consciousness,
Through my net like mind,
It escapes me,
Streetlights of piteous constraint,
Revealing nothing more,
Yet revel in what they supposedly divulge,
Like pretentious picture frames
Puddles coat the road in truth,
Like any other mirror,
Mocking,
Criticising the insecure,
Haunting the Vain,
Yet my only friend,
Hides the false and only speaks fact
The joy of truth,
Revealed from a fragile mind,
Solitude.
Copyright © Rohan Moran | Year Posted 2016
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