Sleep All Day — You thought I’d be buried here.

But I turned the soil into silk and made a bed of it.

Sleep All Day is the hush after the storm. The stretch of limbs after ruin. It is the sound of breath returning to the body—slow, sweet, unafraid. This song is both memory and aftermath. A spell for waking with your scars intact, and your power undiminished.

The journey below is over.

Lucifer is behind you.

The air grows warmer.

Lighter.

But it still smells faintly of ash.

You don’t forget.

You carry it.

Like crosses.

Like dreams.

The music is soft—twinkling, almost playful. But beneath it: a pulse. A reminder that peace isn’t passivity. It’s presence. You don’t return to the person you were. You don’t want to.

You sleep all day now.

Not to escape.

But because you’ve earned the rest.