The sun’s not up. You’re caught between
the predawn chill and the sandpit of dreams
where you’re sunk to your knees. The nightmare claws
of poltergeists still drag you down.
Through predawn chill and the sandpit of dreams
you open your eyes. The room is dim,
and poltergeists still drag you down.
Sometimes they follow you all day, a dread parade,
despite your open eyes. The room is dim,
and you’re alone with shadows closing in.
Sometimes they follow you all day, a dread parade
and will not lose their hold, but still
leave you with these shadows closing in,
sunk to your knees. The nightmares now
begin to lose their hold, thank God, but still
the sun’s not up. You’re caught between.