This wave of tiredness crashes in to me as fast as the caffeine drains from my veins. This blue blanket sea drowns me in sleep, consumes my thoughts, erases the aching in my feet. White pillow lifeboats keep me afloat through the bad dreams. My night life is merely a taste of what you would call "sleep". This boat tosses and turns under whitewashed pain. My memory is a river, or maybe an ocean, and it runs deep. At the bottom lies fear, regret, remorse, defeat. All recipes for an arctic disaster of misery. Tell me, Lord, has this all been in vain?