A kiss before sleep, a sweet song and rest,
as it should be as it always is,
With sweet fingers of fate, the head is undressed,
To bare the dreams that lie beneath.
A river will call to run and to hide,
But her sweet voice is calming and warm,
Sleep sweetest child, soon you will die,
Wake up a man with heart full of storm.
The trail on the floor will guide you to Him,
As many a boy, since and before,
To room full of life yet ****** and dim,
Follow my child the trail on the floor.
The hall of hearts will take you in,
It gives something pretty in return,
It covers with marble your pale white skin,
And leaves you to rot in its endless room.
A circle you exit, you never escape,
It will beat, and beat and give no rest,
You will be strong and you will be safe,
And you'll live your life with a hole in your chest.
A reflection on the abuse I endured and may not have survived as a child, heavy with metaphore, don't try to understand, you'll go mad as I did. :)