The Sandman’s Lullaby

Precise, unseen, no wasted space, A moment lost, without a trace. Steel glides smooth, soft skin divides, The quiet hum before you die. Incisions made, a perfect grace, Carve the truth from every face. Fingers stained, the cut runs deep, Close your eyes, slip into sleep. Blade in hand, a careful art, A steady grip, the perfect mark No mistakes, no wasted breath, I craft in shadow, sculpt in death. Lashes flutter, lips turn blue, A masterpiece in crimson hues. Final shudder, slow decline, Pulse surrenders, life untwines. Incisions made, a perfect grace, Carve the truth from every face. Fingers stained, the cut runs deep, Close your eyes, slip into sleep. Blade in hand, a careful art, A steady grip, the perfect mark No mistakes, no wasted breath, I craft in shadow, sculpt in death. It isn’t anger. It’s simply need. A moment’s pause, a final plea. Nothing personal. Just…routine. Heartbeat stills, a silent dream. Blade in hand, a careful art, A steady grip, the perfect mark No mistakes, no wasted breath, I craft in shadow, sculpt in death. Shhhh… no need for that…It won’t change the outcome… …It’s quiet here…Stay in it.