Incessant.

It never stops, always flowing.
As we sleep, she acts like a plague.
Never resting, conscience, subconsciousness.
To each, for each, above and below
The tip, the submersion, all.
Thoughts ceasing not, words ever rampant.
One more occurance and its about to break.
Here comes the rain, to add to cliche
As I sit and ponder because of his stirring.
A burning draws up, rising like the sun.
Never understand why things go out this way.