Moonlight will fall on the wall

And sprinkle the corner of the rug,

Suddenly, sleeplessness takes the stage

And stays with you till morning’s tug.

Thoughts of the past and the impossible

Will circle endlessly through the night,

Nagging about worries unstoppable,

The role of a runaway won’t feel right.

Tossing and turning until dawn’s break,

You’ll convince yourself that you’re right.

But no answer will form or awake—

What has happened?

Admit it outright…

At dawn, the moon's glow will retreat,

And melt into the rug’s design…

All those doubts will dissolve and fleet,

By morning, the troubles won’t shine.