Letters From The Dead

Its was 4am on a rainy morning
I could hear the sound of the remaining droplets of the rain falling off my old roof
I could see the darkness enveloping the unclad clouds

The persistent tick tock sound of my clock was the only thing communicating to my mind
As I lie there on my warm bed with awake eyes
I wondered within what's keeping me from sleeping?

The curtain begins to moves as the cold wind pushed it...