Do demons ever sleep?
    If so, do they ever dream?
Or do they just live in us,
   Only as real as we allow them to be?

In my dreams
of demons,
Sorcery of Horror
Takes hold while I'm sleeping
I wake up screaming
In the oblivionic darkness
Cold sweat and shallow breathing
I don't know what it means
but I think Nightmares could be
A gateway for your mind to see
into the Dreams
of Demons...

There are times I feel like my brain has shattered into a million shards of ice
Reflecting the rainbows of the sun's light
Each color a memory that I can't shake free

And there are times I feel like the world is mine
Like every millisecond is a luxury of sights and sounds

Sleepless weeks alternating with weeks of sleep
The handful of pills never quite evening up the scale

Tortured dreams from which I wake screaming or paralyzed
Unable to do anything but fear

But even in the worst days I look back on my lifelong roller coaster ride and remember this:

You can't enjoy the ride if the track stays flat. If your car doesn't sink it can't rise

They say there's strength in numbers    

But I just want the voices in my head

                                . . .

                     TO GO AWAY

We live in our corners
in our moments of existance
in our persistence of everyday word

But what would I give
for at this moment
to be dancing all alone with you

To hold you to my chest
as we sway listening
to the charms of the music

Under shooting stars
we make dearest our wishes
Oh ! how silly we are

And for a moment
to bend down to kiss
warm wet lips you have

How can your cheek
be so soft to my touch
I must claim this find as my own

Come dance in my arms
and kiss with your charms
as we simply float away

It don't take much to make me happy
'Cause I'm from the south
I just need some good soul food
To cram into my mouth

Or I can sit on the creek bank
With my best fishing pole
Casting my line expertly
Into my secret fishing hole

A moonlit hike into the woods
Will soothe my achin' soul
Them city folks don't understand
It's better than silver or gold

When Sunday rolls around it's time
To get myself dressed up
The laying of hands and speaking in tongues
Will come if the Spirit moves us

There's a glamour to the south
Like a work of art that's living
Even the poorest of the poor
Open their hearts and are giving

So call me a redneck or a hick
It doesn't matter to me
I'm proud to be a southern girl
There's no place I'd rather be

She is the Raven
of my nocturnal ravening
When the silence and the darkness
of the night become too maddening
She is there,
At my door
Echoing her "Nevermore"
Through Her Eyes,
My Soul Explored
As Phantoms of Old Wars
Roam the tides of the raging storm
On the Night's Plutonian Shore

Woeful, she implores
Me to forget my sweet Lenore
The Ghost I loved before
My Raven sang her "Nevermore"

The Songs and Scents of Seraphim
Linger in my Chamber
Is it that,
Or the Ichor of Madness
Which enforce my strange behavior?

My Raven's claws are resting
On a pallid bust of Pallas
Her black majesty infesting
My infernal, somber palace

And my eyes with fire, gleaming
from the Whispers that are Screaming
At the Shadows of the Demons
Who are Dreaming
Plotting, Scheming
Spirit Fiendish
She can see it
My Flesh keeps Hell beneath it
My Ghastly, Grim and Ancient Raven
Feels my heart get ripped to pieces

And yet  - I still may not believe
This Bird of Prey
Could bring me peace
She flutters with
Unearthly ease
As the wind outside mangles the trees
I see her there, in my despair
Divine darkness chokes the air
Her ever spirit-piercing stare
I feel upon me everywhere

And as I kneel upon the floor
I watch her nest above my door
And I find myself longing for
My stately Raven
From the Saintly Days of Yore
To Haunt me now,
and Forevermore.