In the stillness of night, she lies alone,
Her bed a coffin, her heart a stone.
Insomnia's grip tightens its hold,
As darkness consumes her, bitter and cold.

She's trapped in a tomb of her own making,
Her restless mind endlessly forsaking
The solace of sleep, the peace of dreams,
Lost in a void where nothing gleams.

Alone in the silence, she...