The Insomniac Poem by David Mitchell

When night has spread his shades of dark,
And silent is the singing lark,
And no more's heard the canine bark,
The insomniac awakes.

When man nor woman nothing sees,
And scarce is heard the more than breeze
That gasps amongst the leaves of trees,
The insomniac awakes.

When silent is the noiseful town,
When Luna's smile Apollo's frown
Replaces, in his dressing-gown
The insomniac awakes.

Trying in vain his eyes to close,
Morpheus approaches - Morpheus goes;
Forbidden to forget his woes,
The insomniac awakes.

Not knowing what's this thing call'd sleep,
Incessant vigil doom'd to keep,
In sleepless throes condemn'd to weep,
The insomniac awakes.


He tries, alas! to shut his eyes,
His inner voice madly replies
'I am condemned to tears and sighs':
The insomniac awakes.

The moon her nightly path has run:
Appears the firstmost hint of sun;
The sleeper's hours of rest are done:
The insomniac awakes.

He works, but cannot concentrate:
He eats, but flavourless his plate:
He dreams in daytime - 'tis his fate:
The insomniac awakes.

Alert as man could ever be,
The world a haze alone sees he,
And, plodding homeward o'er the lea,
The insomniac awakes.

A few brief hours, or minutes even,
The insomniac receives this even,
When Morpheus descends from heaven.
The insomniac awakes.

But heaven's moment soon is o'er,
And he is as he was before:
'Tis midnight, and, sleeping no more,
The insomniac awakes.

(Monday,8th May,2006.)