I crushed my own spirit along with that weak aluminium.

Did a wrong

I've yet to right and added to the pandemonium.

Watched a cloudy dream long

enough for me to shatter such delirium.

Silver sparrows sing this song

within their serene stadium.

Dreams are here to be fulfilled by fools

until they are altered, or broken.

Destiny cries, 'my jewels!

my chalice, you're frozen!'.

But the crystalline icicle or sculpture you break free of.

'Death is after you' your fate reminds you so you run off.

What you fail to realise is every night you lay yourself to rest,

the moon glows afar amongst the stars while you pause your test.

Your eyelids close and mouth opens while you move your chest.

No-one seems to see the white blanket that coats the mountain crest.

Then you drift away, drive your soul out of your vessel,

and what you humans call 'sleep' is actually human death rehearsal.

So beware

of the night

when they prepare

for Death's bite.

It's just practice!

That's right!

We're experts

without fright!

Human death rehearsal,

sinking, sneaking sleep.

The state is universal,

the soulless state where you can't peep.

︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎∞︎︎

ద ద 𖦊 ꪉ 𐀔 𐃸 ద 𖦊 ʊ

༒ ༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒ . . ༒

༒ ༒ ᜊ ༒ ༒ ༒

༒ ༒ ༒

༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒

༒ ༒ ༒ . . ༒

ద ༒

༒ . ༒

༒ . . ᰔ

༒

༒