Chronic Delirium

Chronic insomnia

Installs a fear

Of forgotten days,

That manifest in a midnight maze -

A delirious craze

At 3:00am;

Witching hour.

Oh, the power

For the tarot tower

To come crumbling down

Upon a bleary-eyed nightgown.

The twinkling tea-lights of anxiety

Tremor in glorious gumption;

A presumption

Of festive frivolities.

Cider-soaked souls hope to appease

The wandering ghouls of glittery glamour,

Deciphered through the scrutiny of grammar,

Amidst the backdrop of Clapham’s clamour.

Reviews of a Sunday roast

At the Belle Vue,

With a view

Of London’s little

Life

Lost in love;

The mirage of a magical maestro.

A humble glow

Transcends upon the deliriously drunk -

Of those without a seat,

Whom tap to the tipsy beat

Of debauchery at Saltburn.

Depraved details to discern.

Morals to learn

Throughout the course of the night;

A snake’s bite.

Venomous in verse.

A cruel and chronic curse.

Splendid insomnia -

The fear

Of dancing demons

Upon the graves of Milton,

Drowning in saturated stilton;

The rivers of Lethe.

Earthly existence erased.

A poet praised,

As she enters oblivion;

A telegraphing of desire

For the fire

Of Satan’s seductive sleep.