It wakes me in the early hours,
the whispers in my mind,
Calling,
begging,
these shadowed powers
on my conscious they have dined.

Pulling me from my pleasant slumber,
dragging my feet step to step
a silent witness as I lumber
through halls grown darker as I slept.

A flick of the switch,
And the glow burns my eyes
I move like I’m bewitched
Like the screen has hypnotized.

And the computer too seems hazy
as if it has been asleep.
Though it may seem half crazy
my secrets it does keep.  


And if I’m not given that chance
I seek out paper and reach for a pen
And let my fingers idly dance
Because I can’t keep it within

The madness is only sated
when the poem finally ends
and my senses are berated
my sanity unbends

My gift
My curse
This writing of verse
The obsession could drive one mad.