Writing in the "dead of night"...

I'm half asleep with no thought for sleeping.
Lyrics are subconciuosly mine for the taking.
This is what I call a "sleepless mind raking",
rising like things that awaken through baking,
becoming much before resting and way before waking.

Might I say that these are nocturnal lines,
and this is the way of nightly rhymes...
They flow within and throughout,
affecting even the faint and the stout,
because, at times, they're the poets finds.