Insomnia

In the deep dungeons of my eyes,
sleep sat curled up like a frightened cat.
Not listening to my voice or pretending not to listen.
The room was dark and the night was bright.
It refused to see the world.
The corner was its world, it whispered to me.
The stars fell over my head,
each burning with a peaceful pain.
I yearned and yearned,
but sleep refused to listen.
I meandered last few years, the next few years, even my death.
Centuries passed, ages walked back.
But sleep paid no heed.
It smiled sometimes, a sheepish smile.
Making me think that the day is near.
I opened the empty eyes to come back to the dazzling darkness.
I have stopped talking to it now.
The night is my haven.

--Payal