It's one in the morning but my mind won't heed the clock
I am paralyzed by thoughts, by a sense of waiting that both exhausts and perversely energizes.
I am spasming, striking between these polar states like an electron through a circuit.
Do I wait for a sign?
For an opportunity or revelation?
And what force is this that stills my lids from succumbing to sleep's gravity?
I hope, and fear in accelerating counterpoint, my face can give no hints
To this chaos inside of me, my soul it may convince
And time sprints by, the clock so says but feels like seeping sap
So what can I say when asked about the workings of my mind ?
I'd like to ask myself for one truth my heart to find.
So that I could cease this evanescence, that is my feelings sum
Maybe then I'd know the man I'm fated to become
No longer to float in stagnant flux, my thoughts now all aligned
I'll fly ahead along the path my souls sweet hopes defined