Life in a coma

This piece of poetry is an imagination of what it is like to be in a coma.

the sun is out again but midnight lingers in the
stream of my veins,
birds hover and sing above the din of earthy chores,
but crickets and frogs and owls perch on the bed of my pit.
its not like i haven't told the moon and the stars
to leave me to the torturous memmories of their visit
but like a vicious claw, my mind clings to them
denying me any hint of peace
choking any glimmer of hope
imprisoning my freedom.

The sun is gone again and daylight for me remains the same,
black lights, dark shadows and painful memmories.
when will yesterday end?
...
where is tomorrow?
...
in the loud silence of my dimly lit pit i drift off to sleep once again...
loosening my thoughts of today to facilitate those that may come
tomorrow...

Will it come?