If it helps you sleep

Static falls like snow
Dead air radio crowds my ears
Takes on shapes of spectres
A Pandora’s box of all my fears

Every night I switch it on
Hope one day the noise is gone
Everyday keeps getting louder
Visibility now reduced to none

Do I step into the madness
A chaotic pixel, part of the blur
Or sit outside the plastic
Trying to ignore the constant whir

The static winter never ceases
Can’t find a signal, but we try
In the end I fear a sound
Not silence, but my own reply