I close my eyes, but no compromise can be seen,
The fragile fabric of my fort,
is tearing at the seam,
the dainty  frame, remains the same,
no time will make it warp,
and still my dreams like tambourines,
get played  and tossed, like sport,
a steady low drum, becomes their run,
as they sprint and glide and leap,
the darker side, is leaving hyde,
marching to my trembling keep,
red, glowing eyes, like spears,
pierce my shield and brake my spell,
when the night sky clears, through all my fears,
I get dragged to hell.