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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1941305
Is death calling you? Are you going to listen to him?
The night is calling me.
Telling me to sleep because I’m weary
But I don’t like to close my eyes,
‘Cause I don’t want the black pit fill my head with lies.

The moon and stars don’t seem to appear tonight.
The clouds are the kings on sight.
The Nightingale sings to call me to sleep
I will not sleep! That’s a promise to keep.

Some were called by the night
And most of them were never seen in sight.
Never again were they able to see the glorious dawn,
For they lay cold in their pitch black lawn.

With strong convictions, hear what I’ll say
Never will you convince me sleep to finish my day!
The sun will rise. I know it will!
‘Cause it’s a cycle that I always have to deal.
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