Written by Ashcloud

Time is a killer. Image // Mateus Lunardi Dutra

The shrill sound of nothingness deafens.
As silent as sleep itself,
Insomnia mutes functionality.
How is it that so many hide,
Behind a facade of concealer; lies
And steaming mugs of coffee?
What they truly long for – the black blanket
To shroud their ticking minds’ wound,
Beyond capacity, the taut spring awaits
Expectantly, for the slightest nudge
That will uncoil the mind’s formal graces,
In exchange for the unknown,
feared place within us all.

Ashcloud’s poem is something many of us on The Inkwell writing forum can relate to – suffering from insomnia is probably every writer’s nightmare, though it’s probably when we acquire our best material. Stimulated by caffeine, words can magically appear, but without it we’d suffer from the inevitable caffeine crash. It’s why Ashcloud’s poetry just hits the nail on the head; a deep fear some of us can’t seem to escape. If you enjoyed Ashcloud’s ‘Sleepless Nights’, feel free to check out her other wonderful poetry, ‘Knight‘ and ‘The Root of Insanity‘.