Night is crawling through the woods
Rats are stealing all your goods
Floorboards creek as old hag would
Comes a man without all good
Knives and ropes he brings in hands
Sleep on tight, outside he stands
If he hears you cry or talk
Through the doors he may in walk
Grab your pillow tight to chest
Fall into dreams warming nest
Let the man be on his way
Gods have mercy, far is day
Somewhere tightly barks a dog
Weeps one mother, holding log
Father lays with reddened shirt
Ropes are whooshing as they drop
Something trickles in the night
Sleep on children, sleep on tight
Morning comes with torch in hand
Man goes onward, knife in hand
Once he passes near your door
You won’t weep here anymore;
Killer s lullaby
© Copyright: Мика Фролов, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117082100717
Свидетельство о публикации №117082100717
Рецензии