midnight hours draw genius from some
but these hours i lie while my hand plays dumb
i'm ever awake but never inspired
this body wants rest but her brain never tires
heavy lids crave the sleep that doesn't come so easily
thoughts uncontained that can't be maintained
array themselves in a haphazard way
you think them at rest but not so fast
they disband and scatter at the slightest of breath
ink lays to paper and oh the frustration
the cycle repeats again and again
wrong words lacking rythm
and in the end still
thoughts unconcontained that can't be maintained
array themselves in a haphazard way
succumb to the mediocrity
it's all been written anyways
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