A poem: INSOMNIA

But in that slated land between sleep and wake will there be 

an incubus i wonder, and force me to step back,

The rhymes and chimes of insomnia , are they forever lost in

 others who sleeps dreams? 

Is it such that by losing sleep i gain another world? or is it 

destructive, such as i cannot repair?

For if it is destructive what does it destroy but the waked 

consciousness of interaction to come.

Or within that does it sharpen the instant response, the 

targets, the speech, the precision of determination?

And does it therefore make a stronger one, who will through out

it all still speak?