我的睡眠一直很好。令人安心的睡意总是在需要的时候准时到来。
记得那一晚与朋友通宵，我虽极力抵抗着勾人心魄的梦，耳机中的枪声却自在地远去，变成鼓声，变成风铃声，变成耳边的温柔呢喃。终于，修普诺斯令我陷入无魇的平静，又好似被倪克斯摄去了灵魂——因为在梦里，我竟与她一同起舞，贪婪地窥视着黑夜的神秘。
近来的我，却丧失了神的恩泽。
从屋檐滑落的水滴以 2/4 拍落下，风哀嚎着想要挤过禁止的窗间狭缝，不远处的大厦彻夜不熄的幽幽蓝光打在舍友的脸上，激活了这场合奏的最强声部。
我闭上眼，我睁开眼。我向左翻，我向右翻。用右耳听，用左耳听。才发觉夜是如此的丰富，而漫长。
忧愁，忧愁，忧愁。我忧愁着自己怎么还不能入睡？我忧愁着自己为何不能入睡？哦，是灵魂太重，再难飞向天空。
How can I then return in happy plight,
That am debarr’d the benefit of rest?
When day’s oppression is not eas’d by night,
But day by night, and night by day oppress’d?
And each, though enemies to either’s reign,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still further off from thee.
I tell the day, to please him thou art bright
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven:
So flatter I the swart-complexion’d night;
When sparkling stars twire not thou gild’st the even.
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
And night doth nightly make grief’s strength seem stronger.