Too many times stumbling in
The dark, when so many slumber.
Brushing corners to scratch reality;
Bug bites indicate my waking state.

Again, I find sleep as many stir.
Cyclic listlessness in my bed.
Dreams begin to blur consciousness,
Slurring events, stoking psychosis.

I explore with newly found lucidity,
Clarity largely absent in life.
Direction taken with ease,
I'm never lost for too long.