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Sleep
The Tickle in my Brain, the Itch in my Mind
The Sickle for the Grain, the Quern for the Grind
In my mind's eye, late in the cold night
As my body sleeps yet my soul takes flight
I walk through an endless Field of Golden wheat
Everything is perfect even the Sun can't be beat
The Song is sweet and pure, the Sky is blue and Clean
My walk is slow and sure, thought is right and Keen
the ground is Soft and supple, the smell of Jasmine is sublime
Such a perfect picture for nuptial, or a place from divine
But I can feel it on my Back, resting like a Feather
My hand brushes against Power and Aged Leather
My Forlorn Other of Steel and Pain
My soul Torn Brother of Fight and Bane
Standing six feet tall, of Steel and Leather
Formed From Hate, a Fire no better
My Silent companion walks with me
A Final benediction of Pity
Within a Flash of a second or a blink of an Eye
This heavenly scene falls apart, all went awry
The songs corrode into all minor Keys
And Jasmine is gone, left as a tease
The Heads of wheat are no more
The bodies of the dead begin to grow
This Place has been tainted by past, by Ire
So I must kill it, I must kill it with Fire
But no Flame walks with me, Just my Blade
And no Fame waits for me, just the Fade
And no Love reaches for me, Just the Morrow
For no Life touches me, Just my Sorrow
The play is the same, it's all happened before
For when I close my eyes then I open the door
At the end of it all I'm covered in blood and hate and Gore
I wake up, Just knowing that I Want more, That I Want so much more
