Ode to Sleep

I always dread the moment when my eyelids become too heavy to stay open, my neck rigidly "rests" on my pillow and the world around fades into darkness. To me, sleep is the time in which I am prisoner to my subconscious mind. Every time I dream, my own death is bound to follow. If I'm lucky, I survive. But purely existing isn't living, and life is never freely given. The inevitable consequence of my life is a society plagued by my own mind. I can barely manage these dreams when they are only that, and when these dreams gradually meld with reality, they turn everyone's world upside down.