“Sweet Dreams” 06/1997

Growls the sky
as hunger strikes,
Strange I feel
against the knife,
Held up to my throat.
Sharp pain does draw,
the blood is warm.
I taste the salt,
it soothes my tongue.
Swells the throat
cut so deep.
The pain soon passes,
I fall asleep.
And dream of demons,
the witches ride.
Up through my veins,
my fear runs wide.
I scratch and claw,
to drive them out.
They find comfort there,
I have no doubt.
Lift me up,
I’ve lost control.
My will is yours,
I have no soul.
Have your way
within my flesh.
My mind’s gone mad,
I have to rest.

…got to find a place where I can hide (dogs are barking everywhere; voices tremble through the air.)

Beauty reeks of
fire’s scorn.
I beckon the sun
to bring the morn.
To drive away these
angry ghosts.
Who’ve chosen me
as their host.
I know them well
from time forgotten.

I have survived,
I am the last.

My will holds fast.
My light won’t fade.
I am the past,
I am the grave.


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