The nostalgic insomniac

The perfect imperfections of the dawn The sound of a cricket thereupon  He sat on a window sill waiting for it to rain  He rained later on how his efforts were in vain Breathing heavily with the wind in his hair  Faintly aloof from the worlds chaotic affair Wandering through the stars in search of light Wondering at its beauty and trying to reignite  Dead inside. Robotic routine. Blinded by the sight. He was a nostalgic insomniac  Trying to recreate memories of what was lost  He lost himself to the darkness but at what cost? Twinkling stars in the moonlit sky reminded him of rhymes That he had learnt when he wasn't old enough to commit crimes But as he grew older he committed a socially accepted  sin  Stole someones heart but later shadowed away in the dim. Burning inside. Chaotic thoughts. Blinded by the inner voice.  He was a nostalgic insomniac. He forgot his morals along the way  Tryin...