Sestinas follow a strict pattern of the repetition of the initial six end-words of the first stanza through the remaining five six-line stanzas, culminating in a three-line envoi.  (And, let me just say, this was trickier than I thought it would be and I'm not sure it's quite finished yet.)  The form is as follows, where each numeral indicates the stanza position and the letters represent end-words:

1. ABCDEF     2. FAEBDC     3. CFDABE     4. ECBFAD     5. DEACFB     6. BDFECA

7. (envoi) ECA or ACE

The envoi, sometimes known as the tornada, must also include the remaining three end-words, BDF, in the course of the three lines so that all six recurring words appear in the final three lines. In place of a rhyme scheme, the sestina relies on end-word repetition to effect a sort of rhyme.

I don't usually write poetry and this is my first attempt at a sestina.  The subject of sleepwalkers/living dead/sheeple has come up a couple of times lately, most recently in Cerberus' blog, so I thought I would post this poem.  Freeback and critiques are always welcome.  (Just be kind, please!) 

Somnambulance

Not quite asleep, yet not quite awake;

They go through life like the living dead.

They don't even realize they're not alive

And never take the time to stop and think.

It's so much easier to perpetually sleep.

They can't even bring themselves to dream.

 

The living dead don't dare to dream

Because they're too afraid to be truly awake.

They don't know to be awake is better than to sleep,

But it's much more difficult than being dead.

Because when you're awake you have to think

And make a conscious effort to be alive.

 

The truly living prefer to be alive

But that doesn't mean they don't dream.

It simply means they choose to think

And they know the real value of being awake.

The truly living feel sorry for the living dead

And pray one day they'll wake from their sleep.

 

By going through life always asleep

They miss out on what makes us alive.

Sense is dulled and imagination dead

With no creativity to even dream.

For to live life fully is to be awake

And aware of things that make you think.

 

To look for deeper meanings, I think,

In subconscious dreams when you sleep

And in daydreams when you're awake,

Helps you to be open, aware and alive.

The truly living dare to dream

But that's too risky for the living dead.

 

So they continue living as if they're dead,

It's frightening when they're forced to think

And gods forbid they should dare to dream.

They think nothing at night when they go to sleep,

Not knowing what they're missing by not being alive

And asking questions about life and living awake.

  

Thus the living dead keep their dreamless sleep

While the rest think it's better to be alive

And know the joy and magic of being truly awake.