Storm clouds, battle, that’s all I see,
In the fog of my mind that’s all it can be,
It’s hard to make out the different thoughts,
It’s hard to see what each one’s brought.
I’m lost in the sanctity of my own head,
I’m lost, and if I think about it, I could be dead,
Inside of me where nothing is right,
I do not even glimpse much light.
It’s blotted out by the darkness, I think,
I can’t see it, not even when I blink,
It’s hard to focus when it’s all bleary,
All this darkness makes me weary.
I just want to go to sleep,
And in that sleep my heart will keep,
Hopefully I will be fine,
Hopefully I won’t be blind.
So as I lay down to rest,
And hope that my sleep has been blessed,
I think of all the precious things,
And the hope that each thing brings.