SLEEP WALKER

Grave digger you are far away from home.
Sleep walking through phantacies magical lore.
You faintly hear my voice and recoil with fear.
Wakey wakey it is time to come home my dear.

There is truth to what the voices say you know.
But you listen with your ear to the ground.
Soon they will disturb your whimsy design.
But you know all stories must end in time.

Grave digger you are far away from home.
Sleep walking through phantasies magical lore.
You have wandered too far into the deep.
Now your soul is heavy with sordid keep.

Clad in rotting clothes made of fairy dust.
Chasing after shadows with Pan you lust.
I see your receded star in this cyclic bind.
Tied to the ground with the rest of mankind.

Sleep walker you are far away from home.
Digging graves for a bloodbath in Rome.
Distracted with every passing thought.
Believing in things that come to naught.

Wakey wakey it is time to come home my dear.
And release your hold on every worry and care.
Grave digger you have hit the bottom of the hole.
For the love of G-d just pay the birdman’s toll.

By Jason Youngman
Summer of 2017

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About Jason Youngman

An explorer of volition and soul, a song under a night's sky and a dream that forever yearns to be.
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