The witching hours, we aren't afraid of those,
Heaven knows we pray for sleep
Only to dream of having dreams
Stuck in the darkness of this in between
Keeping consciousness but, honest this
Baggage has been weighing heavy.
These flood gates still hold steady,
Under pressure they may just break the levee,
Cracking slowly all the time,
For all the things attacking your mind,
I wrote this lullabye.

Streaming through insomniac days
That just fade out like memories
Barely there despite being awake.
Shaking the feeling of dealing
With the ghost I call myself
Until I can slip into my bed and melt.
Can I host a night where rest is felt?
Maybe not, yet still I try,
Writing myself a lullabye.

Two became three, three came four
Numbers shining from my dresser drawers
Taunting, laughing, trapping me in my head
I tried to write a lullabye
Only to find a nightmare instead.

I wish I could say it all smooth,
blue skies and butterflies,
peaches and cream,
sea glass gliding the edge
of the tide and the moon's soft glow
steadying our fragile night.

But the world is too sharp,

darling, and the lullabyes we
whisper before morning dew are
dashed to pieces by noon, the promises
we make suspended somewhere
unreachable. Slashed and stitched but
the scar is elusive. Tenuous.

Till then we conspire.

(on candystriped legs)* -the Sandman comes,
catch you while you're sleeping,bring you dreams of redrum
hum softly in your ear-fear, tears - sleep apnia,
lucidly,produce a vista that lingers long after ya,
wake,but wait which is the dream realm?
Once I get you on my list in time you're surely overwhelmed

By a state of Schizophrenia,daydream mania,
add a victim to the list of convoluted insomnia,
(searching out fear in the gathering gloom)
a potent presence appears to bring the prescience of doom

**The room shivers like Inception,but you've still no conception,
of the depth of the Abyss that blows softly with deceptions,
no exception to preception of the photo-reception,
mis - perception,misdirection,just a section of my weapons,
(be still,be calm,be quiet now,my precious toy),
The Sandman's here to rock you with a lullabye

Rock­a­bye baby...

High on the rocks

Thinking you’re safe,

and god knows you’re not

Baby is sleeping,

unknowing of its fate

Far, far down

there lies a frozen lake

For when the wind blows,

the cradle will fall

splinter to pieces

like a shabby wooden wall

Here the wind comes,

gentle and sweet

Planning the gruesome,

drawn­out death

the poor baby will soon meet

Forward and back,

the cradle will rock

The wind will softly caress,

all the way down

until the baby’s skull

shatters on the dock

From the high rooftops,

into the sea

No one could hear

the poor baby’s screams

Rock­a­bye baby,

high on the rocks

Thinking you’re safe

and god knows you’re not