DeathPoet is Back. On reflection nothing has changed.

Used to live life as DeathPoet. Seems like so long ago yet now he's back. He forgot to bring his inspiration along so here's a poem from Yesteryears.

When you wake up in the middle
of a troubled and sleepless night.
Infinite problems,
their solutions out of sight.

Even as you lay in bed,
wrestling with poignant dreams.
Logic eludes,
as sanity dances on uncertain rims.

Like a zombie through graveyard silence,
your mind scans through life so surreal.
But your heart cannot ignore pain or hurt,
Even flesh needs time to heal.

The wee hours of the night,
Frogs too tired to croak.
Your brain like a sponge,
reality it starts to soak.

Outside the window darkness becomes light,
You try to hold on but time still passes by.
The hour hands will not cease to move,
the void will exist no matter how hard you try.

I write blind
- Deathpoet.