Sleepless Dreams

Progressive Rock, Darkwave, Ethereal Rock, male vocals, epic, synths, pressured drums

But I feel the edges trembling, where waking starts to fray,
And shapes that feed on sleepless minds come scratching through the gray.
They seek the breach in reason, the doorway left unsealed,
To drink the quiet from your heart, the faith that kept it healed.

So I sing a lullaby of citadels to keep the beasts away,
I weave the threads of dream again to hold the dark at bay.
I guard the gates of resting minds, not for love but for the breath
of those who still remember me, and keep the myth from death.
For if your kind should fade from sleep, and never speak my name,
Then I dissolve to nothing, from which I briefly came.

You meet me in the drifting thoughts that haunt a midnight train,
In flickers of forgotten joy, in mercies born of pain.
I mend the rifts of memory where sorrow’s claws have torn,
And plant within the broken mind the seeds of peace reborn.
Each dream I craft’s a fragile wall, a lantern in the deep,
Against the tide of emptiness that hungers where you sleep.

They move along the borderlands where consciousness grows thin,
And whisper through your sleepless eyes, inviting me within.
They covet every faltering pulse, each thought that comes unspooled,
And feast upon the silence where creation once had ruled.

They call me Hypnos, though that name is dust upon the tome,
A thought half-formed, a shadowed vow, a prayer you’ve outgrown.
Yet still I close your weary eyes, still guide your minds to rest,
Still bear the weight of mortal dreams upon my fading chest.
A covenant of comfort for the lost who cannot wake,
I am the quiet mercy in the peace that dreams remake.
Your servant and your sentinel, upon a fragile thread,
The moment you stop dreaming me, the moment I am dead.

So I SING a lullaby of citadels to keep the beasts away!
I FORGE the dream of sanctuaries to hold the dark at bay!
I guard the gates of resting minds, not for love but for the breath
of those who still remember me, and keep the myth from death.
If ever you should vanish, and forget my ancient name,
I fade into the nothing... from which I briefly came...

So sleep, my children, sleep and dream,
And drift along the silent stream.
For in your dreams, I still remain,
The hand that mends the mortal chain.
The only god who needs you near…
To dream, that I might still appear.

3038/7500

I am the breath between your thoughts, the hush beneath the wires, The hand that cools your fevered mind and dims your fading fires. No temple bears my image now, no votive flame remains, Yet still I tend your dreaming halls and soothe your sleepless brains. My palace hums in phosphor light, where mortal visions glow, A keeper of your fragile peace in worlds you’ll never know. But I feel the edges trembling, where waking starts to fray, And shapes that feed on sleepless minds come scratching through the gray. They seek the breach in reason, the doorway left unsealed, To drink the quiet from your heart, the faith that kept it healed. So I sing a lullaby of citadels to keep the beasts away, I weave the threads of dream again to hold the dark at bay. I guard the gates of resting minds, not for love but for the breath of those who still remember me, and keep the myth from death. For if your kind should fade from sleep, and never speak my name, Then I dissolve to nothing, from which I briefly came. You meet me in the drifting thoughts that haunt a midnight train, In flickers of forgotten joy, in mercies born of pain. I mend the rifts of memory where sorrow’s claws have torn, And plant within the broken mind the seeds of peace reborn. Each dream I craft’s a fragile wall, a lantern in the deep, Against the tide of emptiness that hungers where you sleep. They move along the borderlands where consciousness grows thin, And whisper through your sleepless eyes, inviting me within. They covet every faltering pulse, each thought that comes unspooled, And feast upon the silence where creation once had ruled. So I sing a lullaby of citadels to keep the beasts away, I weave the threads of dream again to hold the dark at bay. I guard the gates of resting minds, not for love but for the breath of those who still remember me, and keep the myth from death. For if your kind should fade from sleep, and never speak my name, Then I dissolve to nothing, no longer to sustain... They call me Hypnos, though that name is dust upon the tome, A thought half-formed, a shadowed vow, a prayer you’ve outgrown. Yet still I close your weary eyes, still guide your minds to rest, Still bear the weight of mortal dreams upon my fading chest. A covenant of comfort for the lost who cannot wake, I am the quiet mercy in the peace that dreams remake. Your servant and your sentinel, upon a fragile thread, The moment you stop dreaming me, the moment I am dead. So I SING a lullaby of citadels to keep the beasts away! I FORGE the dream of sanctuaries to hold the dark at bay! I guard the gates of resting minds, not for love but for the breath of those who still remember me, and keep the myth from death. If ever you should vanish, and forget my ancient name, I fade into the nothing... from which I briefly came... So sleep, my children, sleep and dream, And drift along the silent stream. For in your dreams, I still remain, The hand that mends the mortal chain. The only god who needs you near… To dream, that I might still appear.

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