Manic Shapes

Lying in bed, Peripherally blind,
3am, and its silent still,
No rest for my doubting mind,
Orange glowing around the 'sill,
Broken by the midnight headlights,
Sending manic shapes across my wall,

Is it moral to lust for nothing?
And to want everything?
But need whats in the offing,
However, the length of the string,
Is determined by the seasons,
And by the four month long hellish wait,

Ive seen harder men cut by smoother stone,
Angels fall from blinding heights,
Twenty kings and one throne,
The darkness from behind the lights,
So now as i question myself,
As to why i did those things to you,