Jon, I missed this poem,
The little boy crying himself to sleep, so alone in the dark and so afraid of what night will bring, it is sad.
The little boy so afraid in his own home, with his protectors not being beside him, he feels so lost and vulnerable in the dark of night.
The Hell, of not being able to sleep, because of the fear of the nightmares, the little boy curling into foetal position, because his survival instincts tell him that it is the position of the womb, where he was so protected.
I hope the nightmares are over, and I wish you well,
Whoever stole the Sun, put it back and we'll drop all the charges!