Well, it’s that time again. The time when I find myself completely sleepless and writing gibberish in the form of half-assed prose. Enjoy it, hate it. I don’t rightly care either way right now. Though despite that I’m still looking for people to read my stuff and not only critique, but advise me in ways I might improve.

Though for this, my only excuse is I tend to have strange thoughts when I’ve been having trouble sleeping, like these past couple of weeks. Focusing on something to scribble down keeps me from looking around the room in that half-dream state that makes you think rabbits are gnawing through your walls ready to kidnap you because you have the key to the Bunnigeddon, chattering on and on about tuna fish while they chain you up and carry you through a never ending, brightly lit tunnel that the further you go in, looks more and more like a fleshy wall right out of Silent Hill, when suddenly they throw you off of what now appears to be a giant moth, while Queen’s “Bicycle Race” starts to play and you realize that the whole experience is one, unpunctuated, run-on sentence.

Ahem. Tyrade over. Just read and lemme know what you think

Succumb to fury,
Succumb to fear,
Here, the monsters we can hear.

Beyond madness comes the peace,
Beyond slumber where we lay,
This is where the monsters play.

Struggle we might,
Struggle we try,
Now we see the monsters cry.

Relief comes from effort,
Relief comes from pain,
Then we see the monsters slain.

Sincerely sleepy, Mega.


2 thoughts on “Monsters.

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