The Source

Countless nights go by where I sleep by force
Tossing, turning, wondering why and what for
Questioning myself, never ending hunger, always wanting more
Maybe it's what's killing me slowly, like it did before
I lay awake half of the time, clawing to ignore
The things I can't control, like this life, and how it's torn
Thinking of ways to fix it, not on the surface but deep in the core
Sometimes it drives me crazy, maybe from something so pure
Emotions run raw and wild, while trying to mend the source...