| Split Part 1 |
|---|
| In the dying embers of a burnt-out day, |
| When morning seems a thousand hours away, |
| Dark prevails and the light gives up the fight to stay. |
| The blackness thickens and surrounds, |
| Masking all but distant sounds, |
| I seek for thought to occupy still conscious mind. |
| As calm and peace surround my bed, |
| I feel that sleep is not far ahead, |
| But in place of slumber comes a bolt of fear instead. |
