These Midnight Hours

All I can hear is the whir of my fan and tick of my clock
although time and space have no meaning
for in these midnight hours all meanings pass away
and the world becomes darkened by the absence of the sun

Goose bumps appear upon my flesh and yet I am sweating
for hot and cold do not exist and yet they are all that exist
because nothing makes sense in these midnight hours

Tiny flickering lights encircle me in their glow
the fireflies have come to taunt my wakefulness
and to haunt me whilst I am in distress
for they know the secrets of these midnight hours

I try to stand but the world is turning and so I fall
unable to stand up although I am already on my feet
floating like a ghost during these midnight hours

A tornado blows throughout my room and I am lifted up
by the maelstrom that is my ceiling fan
a great beast that seeks to eat me up and crush me
to tear me apart with it's spinning blades
for everything's a monster in these midnight hours

Even I become a monster and I tear about my room
transformed by these maddening midnight hours
I open every drawer and I tear every drawing
and I scribble meaningless words upon the wall

But it all disappears as the clock strikes one
and everything that was wronged becomes right
and these dreadful midnight hours will cease to be
until the new beginning of the morrow