Very Little Rest
Sleep, where hast thou gone?
Why, so fleetingly, do you tempt me with your blissful emptiness?
And when the sun crests the trees behind my window and floods my vision, why do I still hear your whisper echoing in my belaboured thoughts?
Oh, Sleep.
Why, so fleetingly, do you tempt me with your blissful emptiness?
And when the sun crests the trees behind my window and floods my vision, why do I still hear your whisper echoing in my belaboured thoughts?
Oh, Sleep.