People have a way of living in my head
long after they're gone
In the dead of night
At the darkest hours of day
A vampire will incarnate from his grave
and shrieks so loud the sun takes refuge
behind heavy curtains
And every dream disappears
But I hope for tiny stars to shine
An interval for silence
short, short, short as it may be
To prove the people in my head are ghosts
and vampires live in hell
There is no hell, alas, outside my head
nor a graveyard beyond my heart.
If so, one's precious moment is when they're gone
To bed, or to the sky...
But the people in my head never sleep
or die..
I feed them with a mouthful of tranquilizers
and they howl even more.
What if I am the one howling in my head?
One can never say for sure..