Night terrors
conjure shapes
   and forms
far from here...
distant demons
   wake --
they yawn and
   stretch,
their fingertips
touching soul
   and sky.
No fear is felt
because it is not
   known.
Caution falls aside --
showing mercy
is unimportant,
it is a burden...
   antique and
   unproductive.
(There are no tricks
   to fate.)
The world is dark --
each breath
(each whisper)
hangs upon the day
so late in coming.
The demons dance
   and smile --
familiar with the
   nightmare.
(Another time,
another place...)
Magician teach us
careful magic
learned far off --
where hope lies down with
   death.