The Wind/Mind

How would you describe those late night thoughts?

The Wind.
It mimics the mind late at night.
While you are lying fast awake in bed,
The borage of thoughts plaguing your brain.

The small gusts, almost like careless whispers.
They are the quiet. The times of peace and almost respite from the dream snatching thoughts.
Moments of almost sleep.

Then a whoosh of air slams into the window.
Bang. A thought.
Just like that they are still captured in the awakened dream land never to leave.
Or so you believe.

Large bangs, changes in direction, objects no match for the strong brute force.
Bending to its every whim; its every wish; its every command.

These are the problems with those that cannot sleep.
No luxury comes to those who cannot shut off.
They are trapped forever, whisked into the hurricane never allowed to return to the ground of sleep.

Well...

Not until they have been truly twisted, flung and broken.
Not until they have been completely shattered and disorientated.
Not until their own brain has been swished so easily away like a paper bag in a initially small gale.

That's when they are allowed to rest in peace.
And to drift off into the plagued heaven where their dreaded thoughts can form into images.

All that's left to ask is,

Is that place a Heavenly Sanctuary or a Tortured Solitude?