The universe reverberates with an unheard music.
Everything trembles with a still small song.
Of Sorrow.
Repressed by machination.
And I hear so much of it lately...
My hearing is filled with it, my head is full of contemplation of it.
Because I am so close to delirium of exhaustion. Quavering on the edge of consciousness, I am one step closer, to my insanity induced fantasies.
So mediocre. So...normal and bland lately...
That something more though...It pierces every now and again. Penetrates to the soul.
Washing in with the waves of fatigue.
I don't think I can parallel any enthusiasm anymore.
Dull.
Dead.
Tired.
Withdrawn.
And I guess that about sums everything up.
If I don't start sleeping better soon, like, tonight, things won't be good. They already aren't.
I'll just slip into this imagined world of ages long past.
Shivering to the music my weary conscious thinks it hears.