The watchman sleeps, guitar at feet
his nights work complete
drifts as the sun rises at dawn
but who watches when the watchman's dreams are torn?
When the terrors unfold
who gives him the power to be bold?
his own demons come out to play
when he lets himself drift away
Uninvited, they infest, not guests, they ingest
any happiness, the watchman snoozes, distressed
every moment a tortured thought
the sweat begins to pour
Strength drained, cant fight tears or deep buried fears
he dreams, in horror, at all the lost years
the love he holds dear, he cant show his heart
who will hold on when the watchman's dreams fall apart?
After the pain of the day the watchman sits at his post
always to watch and lay to sleep the dark ghosts
his mask a bit worn, his figure less sure
but the night has its guide, forever keeping secure
Thanks for reading.
Peace & Love.
Kyle.
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