The Hand, The Furnace, The Straight Face

Project 86

Quiet
It's 4 AM
I was
Sound asleep
Trying
To hunt the sheep

There is a choice
Within a voice
Lurking somewhere between
Hidden parts
And facial scars
And remnants of the deepest needs
I am convinced
In sleeplessness
That we need some source of rest
Following
With frequency
Won't become a place to lay our heads

I've searched
And tried
And tumbled in the midst
I've swallowed pride
And nullified
What's left of innocence
Reparations
Won't be made
We'll set a precedent
Never to late
To recreate
So here's your evidence

Am I getting through?
Is this loud enough?
Any means