Was it solitude? Perhaps a suicidal chain of substance abuse? | Paraphernalic Thoughts

Was it solitude? Perhaps a suicidal chain of substance abuse? Was it cancer? Maybe. Whatever it was, it left him shriveled up and breathless on a cheap hospital bed.
His burial was commenced the day after in a cemetary not far from where he lived. Three faceless people showed up. People whose visages would've been unrecognized by the corpse they lowered into the ground. The three faceless saints said their prayers and left him to rot in eternal peace. He always wished for a longer sleep.
Sleep cures fatigue. Sleep attenuates the fragile hill of sorrow we build up inside the barren savannah of our hearts. Sleep communes with depression and asks for a fair compromise. Sleep placates the monster that freely roams within. If sleep was a drug, tens of thousands of crackheads would have overdosed on it per a single day.
And hence his wish was granted. A longer sleep. A longer rest.