Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Some mysterious phantom's sudden hand
Between the folds of night and sleep
Shakes me till I wake, and in the night's
Abandonment, I sense no form or gesture.

But some old terror still unburied in
The heart I bear, as if from a throne
Descends and takes over as my lord
And owner, without taunt or prod or order.

And I feel my life suddenly caught up
By a rope of the unconscious
Held by whatever nighttime hand is leading me.

I feel I am nothing but a shadow
Of some form invisible that terrifies me,
And like the cold dark I exist in nothingness.

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