Unoriginal Madness

Ungodly Hours of the Night

In the morning I rise

and thank God for the Sun.

Everytime surprised

that I woke up from the night before.

In the ungodly hours of the night

my sleep is disturbed.

My thoughts are not my own

and I reel at the words.

Everytime I wake up

I am whole

anew.

My sighs aren't so long

yet, my lies are so true

But when I go to sleep

my room is my cage

where I tear myself apart

in a beastly rage.

In the morning I rise

and marvel at my life.

With a honest mask on my face

triffling is the strife.

In the ungodly hours of the night

the moon is my reminder:

"There is a monster she's fighting,"

it whispers.

"The evil inside her."