My Question of Truth

I am tired but wide awake
Can you feel the stars dancing in front of your eyes?
I can.Touch sleep.Dark.Death.
That unanswerable question
The dust will not fly until I blow
But the wind is calling
Flying to its maker.Laughing.Reaching.Wanting.
I can read what is not words
So alone.So forgotten.
I believe.I believe.Fate guides me by the hand
But only by the fingertips
I need the comfort of knowing.Knowing.Knowing.
I can't see.Black.Black.Black lights
Hands.Eyes.Black cold.
Can't see.Fading.Fading.Fading.
This small grasp of life has died.