sleep

My dreams are often plagued by images of the real world ,but never so much that they leave me searching for some kind of a meaning. There was something odd about the games my mind played as my body rested last night. I've always been a haunted man in my waking hours and used to enjoy sleeping to escape the demons trapped within me constantly tugging and tearing at the already fragile fabric of my sanity. It seems now that my troubles have invaded my last sanctuary. Sleep is no longer my friend. It has become yet another companion to the misery I desperately attempt to flee daily.