27 December 2012
Deprived is the sight of the minds wide awake eyes,
Slipping sweetly into the thunder of a silent nights slumber,
Terrors spin as you grip your pillow, trip and flip under your mattress where the goblins live,
You're trapped now, fate sealed with the sound of your own squeal,
Until the bright rise of the next mornings appeal.
Get Some Sleep! • Opuss № I