A Dream to Dead the Awake

Upon a night of silent, hazy fog,

I ponder mysteries of human hearts,

Bed-Partner sleeps like Forest's coldest log.

Blood chills in fear and stress reaction starts.

--

I pause the mysteries of human hearts,

As mine-deep rumble-groaning fills the place,

Blood chills and heart attack reaction starts,

Some rare look of slaughter gleams in her face.

--

A mine-deep rumble-groaning shakes the place,

Bed-Partner sits upright like Stoker's dream,

The blood-grin of slaughter gleams in the face,

She stares at me and starts a laughing scream.

--

Bed-Partner sits upright like Stoker's dream,

And some things enter, evil, from the deep,

She stares at me and starts a laughing scream,

Then plummets to the pillow for more sleep.

--

Grim shadows hobble-flap to hell-holes deep,

Blood warms and snoring grunting sleeping grinds.

Shuffling in pillows, shivering for sleep,

I ponder on the fates of dreaming minds