I should be asleep instead of awake.

Overwhelming the inquietude for real or misleading worries, unresolvable in any case til morning comes and a bolder state of mind.
In the hum of silence eyelids open abruptly in the dark and along corridors of this dwelling distorted shadows sway in a performance of incessant dance.

Restless is the night of the wakeful, that arc of time most humans repose while exhausted souls electrify the air with tenseness and light.

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