No verbs? No way.

Well, impossible at first. Or maybe not. A quick try?

The mind in complete haze,

Neurons like a messy maze,

A blank page under my gaze,

No way, no sign, no blaze.

Well… not that bad after all.

And now?

Or what now?

Apocalypse Now?

A painful arrow,
A loud sorrow.

No sense at all. But a funny nonsense overall.

Here the night,

Here the knight,

Your name: insomnia,

My name: dyssomnia.

Beautiful, right?

Shakespeare or Molière, same shit, same fight, same vibe, and sometimes the same poetry.

Difference? Writing length.
Obviously shorter.
French writer, so… halting English.

Last and final attempt:

A silly wanderer,
A grave skylarker,
A good exercise, though.
A non-native thought.

Good night.

P.S.: No more excuses. Your turn.