Insomnia’s Dance

Midnight slips in like a phantom’s caress, A whisper of shadows draped in distress. The clock ticks, taunts, with a cynical grace, While I prepare for insomnia’s embrace.I step to the rhythm of thoughts in my head, A waltz with the ghosts who refuse to be dead. Each pirouette drags me deeper in black, A dance with no partner, no way to turn back.Feet move in circles; the floor creaks and groans, A stage set in darkness where no light has shown. I twist through the whispers of voices unseen, Unsure if this night will be cruel or serene.A partner unseen leads me into despair, Hands cold on my shoulders, fingers tangled in hair. Will the night end in silence, a soft, final breath, Or will it drag on, like a dance into death?I sway in the stillness, a shiver, a shroud, Waiting for peace in a grave or a cloud. For the curtains to close, for the music to slow, To finally surrender to the sleep I don’t know.