I am a corpse when I sleep,
and rotten vines grow from my forelimbs,
reaching for an indeterminate point
somewhere in the atmosphere above me.

Nightmares reign in my dreamscapes,
green apples dripping with red poison,
my bed aflame with hellfire
and why will I not awaken?

Something dark breathes hot and heavy on my neck.
Who are you to call upon me at this godforsaken hour?