Often confusing

Sandman

Ah ye, sandman,
Kept me waiting.
Death and trouble,
Stalk me, scraping.
Bones and grim they think will see,
Yet darkness wraps around me here.

Ah ye sleep, come at last,
Yet too late, for I wont last,
Tis time for stars to fade, to bleed.
Nebulae we call them, a beautiful breed.
Little pocks of pox upon a proxy sky,
We stare, as we fade into this dreary night.

Oh ye sandman, huddle my mortal coil,
For I have left, and now lies smoke and mirrored oil,
Sleep, poor substitute; I have seen,
The darkness beyond, the darkness beneath,
The lights that shine are dark and dreary,
Winters cold is nigh unsteady,
Oh ye sandman farewell,
I give thee.