While you sleep, I am awake, I sit at the foot of your bed and I stand guard,
Believe me
                      it is difficult to ward off the imps that chase you far and hard,
To me it appears you are asleep, yet you toss, you turn, whimper and startle,
I hear your groans and I drop my head, I may look defeated, but I am just in prayer,
I can't stop those mares who stamp at night,
                                                          ­                           bridled rein in the hand of a dark heart,
They rest in the daylight when you are not able to stop or go slow, but hark,
they come calling as the sun is low and you are a feather falling lightly, oh that stark,
reality is they are waiting for you land like a rock,
you always do hope for a soft one on a blanket in a park,
but I know concrete slab and cold steel greet you and
                                                             ­                                         the shadows take aim and mark,
your journey this night, the scars don't show by mornings light, yet the drains tap,
into your energy, and I can only watch, no weapon in my hand, no tear from my eye,
will ease the battle, so I pray and I pray to remind me to pray,
                                                           ­                                                          as you alone enter the fray,
defenceless, against the assault, we know there is no fault,
                                                                ­                                                    or if you were to give in and stay
until the dreams ran out,
of their hold, that heartless vice that turns and won't
let go of your beautiful fertile imaginative mind, vulnerable
                                                      ­                                                            and alone.  I am beside you and
yet I wait, to comfort, with only a word that I am near,
you are not alone, "I am here", night watching.