Sleep, yes go to sleep
so you can visit that hell again
when the night arrests your breath
until it's nothing but a whimper
it comes again to **** your soul
leaves merely a reeling shell  
madness in being buried alive
are they nightmare or memories
a blend of blood's spilling guts
twisting  entrails till they fail
bleeding the heart, ******* it flaccid
neurons flashing in neon putrid green,
deep repulsive murky shadows of inky ebony
pulsating to the beat of slicing knives momentum
they don't hide in the closet or under the bed
these are the true monsters in your head, as the un-dead
take a chance on some zzz's tonight
if you're really lucky, perhaps you will wake...

A hollow stippling of a soul in the breeze
    hiding in the bushes of perilous vexing
there are days when the wind howls
    whispers darkly  at the ominous night
feel the chill that passes through
           dances coolly on pressed eyelids
                   floats tepid beyond the senses
             know it's the emptiness that comes
        right before realities' disenchantment

Where is love laid to rest
when it takes that last breath

are there markers at a grave-site
or does it purely burn out
much like ashes of cremation
no bejeweled urn to possess

terminated last rites,

sacrificed primordial
spiritual strength for recovery

~Rest in Peace~

if you've faith enough
  to say 'AMEN'