The Sleepless

Once a man, now a monster of legends.

A life full of sin, now he has to make amends.

Thinner than the air on the highest of mountain peaks,

Wears a cloak of dirty gray, showing only his withered feet.

Many have witness his sight, unwelcoming as it is,

Not unlike a creation of a fevered dream.

Unnamed was this shadow of a man, for the name was long forgotten,

All that is known now are his crimes, and they are to the core rotten.

For that the Sleepless walks through unforgiving nights,

As his punishment till he sees the merciful light.

Few know how he came to be or the history,

But if one delved a bit too long, they begin to unravel the mystery,

That it began in the old city of Baghdad under the rule of Caliphate Harun Al-Rashid.

The Sleepless, then just a man, would roam the streets of Baghdad looking for the sleeping,

For that is what he did, he took lives when they were most vulnerable and innocent, leaving the family weeping.

Ninety-nine he killed, and one more he would have but was caught by the Blind Imam on his way to hack,

A widow was to be his victim, who had 7 kids. On such a pitiful being was he going to commit his heinous act.

So the Sleepless walks still, through storms and thunders and hell,

Till he compensates for all the blunders, for which he fell.

Just and swift was the Caliphate's ruling, and the punishment severe

For the Sleepless had murdered 99 and one tried.

He will live the life of 99 generations, for the number killed.

But never will he feel the coolness of sleep, as sleep will evade him as long as he lives.

And never will he feel the joy of having a family, since he destroyed so many.

Long has he suffered and the earned the moniker of the Sleepless, searching for respite endless.

So walks the Sleepless through unforgiving nights justly,

until death comes to claim his as death's prize.