O the mighty god of sleep
Put your gentle hand on my head
while I am turning and tossing in bed
My eyes are red
All most dead
Fed up of this moon
which promised me to come soon
Room is what laughs at me
Night asks, "Where is she?"
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC
O the mighty god of sleep
Put your gentle hand on my head
while I am turning and tossing in bed
My eyes are red
All most dead
Fed up of this moon
which promised me to come soon
Room is what laughs at me
Night asks, "Where is she?"
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