As the night draws closer,
The day is left behind,
Darkness becomes sure,
Its just you, and your mind.

Your thoughts are misgiven,
but why not pain and discomfort,
Which the past was driven,
I believed this day or that hurt.

Sorrowful yet just,
remain in your home,
your home that you lust,
Your brain set to roam.

This is the time,
when people don't shout,
when my life is of rhyme,
and I forget to pout.

Some cry themselves to sleep,
some choose not to care,
But peace is not cheap,
But nor is despair.

How bad was your day?
Have you thought of it, really?
Express it? To say?
Theres the answer, hrm.. ideally.

No matter what has happened,
no matter when it comes,
The room becomes blackened,
And harmony drums.

Your dreams become reality,
Your nightmares the truth,
But what was the dream's causality?
How was it couthe?

Your answer? No matter.
Be gracious of the calm,
For the day starts again, another shatter,
Consider it luck, remember your alm.

Freud couldn't explain,
What releases you then,
Freud had it yeah, but only his pain,
One can't decipher, in one year or ten.

Paint pictures,
Make music,
Culminate mixtures,
But please, don't lose it.

Remember this,
when you had that day,
that either bad, or of bliss.
The dream you will have, is yours to portray.

Dream sweet.
Dream long,
Dream of sheets,
Dream of them of but song.

Resting for now,
napping for later,
stimulates work how?
Not to personally cater.

Sleep is the answer,
as simple as that,
Refreshment much fresher,
Sleep like a cat.

You've watched them,
felines with grace,
understand their choiceful referendum,
for even dull minds know their place.