shades of night

I had this conversation once with my friend Chris the Beautiful Musician, in which he told me that what terrifies him is to wake up in the morning - to realize that, yes, he is awake, and that life is there, still, beckoning. I told him my terror rests in the night-time... in the slow creep of sleep.

Tonight has been no exception:


nocturne

Sleep (a succubus - a demon)
embalms me as we're wed;
waits to smother me with linen -
siren-calling to her bed.

And I fear what dreams may come
where I find that I am led
down a path that, once begun,
brings consummation that I dread.

So I pray, and I palaver
as she circles round my head -
makes me shiver as I blather...
sucks me grayly to the dead.