I sat and let the sleepy deities pass me by,
As I mused and listened for the obscure lullaby.
Three notes I had heard, both simply low and high,
Yet astounding enough to provoke a dead man's cry.
I must be crazy, but if I listen close,
I swear I can hear laughing, among the screaming noes.
They tell me I have a demon, or some sort of ghost,
But deep inside I really know, that clearly I am not the host.
The one inside is just a friend,
An ally whom can comprehend
The vicious thoughts within my head
That tell me that I'm not too far from dead.
So I listen close to any sign, that may come from my divine;
But all I hear are three notes, which cry: son, "You died tonight."
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