Sleep of the Damned
Darkened dreams that fill my head
Nightmarish visions, a bloody bed
Under foot, on the ground I see
A crimson puddle, a puddle of me
Warm sensations, run down my leg
I must be strong, and I will not beg
Then I wake, from a sweat filled sleep
My body shaking, in a coiled heap
Tears start pouring, like a falling rain
Breathings hard, and my chests in pain
I try to think, of some better time
But there are none, at least not mine
So I suffer through, the sights and sound
This is my life, to it I am bound
Copyright © Edward Jones | Year Posted 2005
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