26 April 2012
Sleep comes, it stays, It kneels on your chest, And it plays.
Crushes a slowing of your heartbeat, And Twice shackles your feet, Introduces you to evil you hoped you'd not meet.
Attaches its strings to the corners of your brain, Hushes the voices that were keeping you sane, Arches it's back, it's the grey puppeteer,
We all fade to black, The dream weaver is near.
Sleep • Opuss № I