ive been spinning mysteries and fiction in my mind
from a spool of fabric weaved from an abundance of time
we begin to hit the cabbage and again i can see magic-
it's clear that while i had it, it's become no longer mine

--frantic--

spending my last dime and nickels on wealth never trickled,
this battle never-ending grows clearer, yet still riddled
you may encounter the drug of comfort
                                                        c­onsume it or even pack it
but in a world of no profits, i am the hand behind this racket

im the don, im the boss, the last say and the final face
that you will ever see, and that nobody will ever place
you may dream with Morpheus and live for others to hear it
but i am the father of the sleep, the Hypnos for your spirit
i will claim you with the tides of rest sent by mother
and it will feel no different than the death known by no other
do not mistake our time together for numbing or slumber, for
i am keeping you here, ever awake, yet under my cover

~you are safe here with me~