Four am weather report calls for dreary
My mind is fogged in, slow and bleary

Cold rain drizzles and storm clouds hover,
As I stare at the wall and burrow in the covers

Sleep eludes and I wonder what is the reason?
Answers taunt and haunt me like the mad season

Shards of broken thoughts stab into my brain,
Leaving me wondering if I'm going insane?

"Why am I still awake? I've got to drift off soon,
At this sleepless rate, I'll be a zombie by noon"

Unlocking the key to the universe so out of reach,
Yet my mind tries with a hexagon speech

What does that even mean? Hell, I don't know!
Maybe it'll dawn with the cocking of the crow