Hint: This noun will make reading this very tough and horribly painful on your brain.
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Into the night it travels far, even though it starts near. This resounding echo forms my yelp and shapes my tear.

To not be reticent in voice is to garner this condition as the unwavering lack of compassion gives rise to a nuisance of complaining. Darkness now prevails and only shadows from aging beams of lights can withstand the noises.
These once grew as a clamor, now they quickly are being murmured into the silent dull night. I find myself being motionless as the world progresses forward; time is just marching to his own painful drummer. As the hours get longer, yes longer, still longer, my fight has given up and I’ll depart saying “Goodnight,” but wait I’m still awake.

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I am a “Migraine.”

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