The bones draw inward, static and spare,
The soul thins out to brittle air,
The veins recite their final prayer.

Sleep calls the shape to fall beneath,
Sleep smooths the pulse to quiet wreath,
Sleep binds the faith in mute belief

The hands forget their once and why,
The tongue forgets its lullaby,
The eyes forget their need to cry.

Sleep wills the body to release,
Sleep grants the body strict decrease,
Sleep lets the body come to cease.

The outline flickers, thin as thread,
The heartbeat slows, cold hours ahead,
The soul lies gentle with the dead.

Sleep bids the breath to disappear,
Sleep brings an ending without fear,
Sleep says, “no one left to hear.”