Failed Sleep

Two out of Eight

Sometimes one of five

The fraction of hours my head visits my pillow 

My body toils tirelessly for bread

It hangs on a survival instinct that can sting to death.

 

The days of Zero cause the panics and the run for breath

All emotions demoted to no motion

Thoughtless relays helpless careless mistakes 

Crumbling strength to infirmity 

Oh, two of eight is a weakening tablet to take

Never mentioned in the archives of the trying.