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| poems |
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| Sleep well, my darling, sleep well |
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| Eighth Scroll Publishing |
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| Johnthan Cross |
| Sleep well, my darlin, sleep well For we run from heaven and fall into hell Living off what we yet can tell Our senses are off or it really smells Are we ready to stave off the night The things in which we always delight But truer said from fear in flight Nobody rests till we see the light Could we agree on the things we decide Now that I've told you I beg you to side Understand all of those things I don't hide And leave all the rest of it lying besides Tell me the stories of all of the old But only the tales from which I can make gold It doesn't matter to the bodies left cold They turn to dust while their money I fold |
| Tell me of things that you wish I would do Then beg me to do them because it's for you Let us begin with our beginnings new And then you will tell me of you that is... who? Then you would threaten with all of your power Newly acquired from early this hour Over me now your desire to tower Leaves me no choice but to work and to shower Have you forgotten the begotten rules? News of how better we use our own tools And you're left standing 'mongst cities of fools My word, and to think, that I thought you were cool! Doesn't my lord walk away from it all? Needing of nothing but us at his call No need to run or his enemies stall For as he sits he remains just as tall |