At Sleep

It comes scratching, scratching at my door

This thing of silent shadow

It rears up like a monstrous sea serpent

Setting its intentions on a helpless ship

A terrific roar rips from its throat, ear splitting

As it crashes down to obliterate the doomed vessel

This thing of rage it twists and turns, this reeking choking mist.

Its knarled bony hands bare the scars of a thousand ill deeds

Stinking grave dirt clings and long dried blood stains

All broken finger nails and time worn joints

Clawing and grasping, blindly reaching for its prey

The darkness favours it, shrouding its features

Its hideous form enveloped by a silence only the stars know

This abominable creature knows no rest, drifting endlessly

It wears its sins like a cloak, all black anger and velvet

It creeps and slithers forward like a dark cloud alive

Drawing ever closer made more ominous by the sound of a ticking clock

It seems to threaten, seems to speak although says nothing aloud

Words so vicious and cruel, heart splitting accusations

Unrelentess and determined, it pours its venom and bile to drown me

Words so damaging and painful, soul destroying rebukes

This devil of the dark has no pity, no soft side, empathy has no home here

There is no payment or penance it will accept, nothing to halt it

I have feared it so, at night in the dark, at day surrounded by others

Its always there, waiting, forever waiting until I am too weak to fight

I uncovered it once, pulling back that black velvet hood, finger tips burning

I chose to believe I was at sleep, dreaming wildly of monsters and demons

For the face I was staring at in such fright, was my own.

K .W