Night Terrors

Night terrors were once the bane of sleep. Leading to tears and a piercing shriek One night, woken by a lightning storm The curtains were to move and transform. Imagine my fear as it opened. And then in walks hell's chief exponent. Moving slowly, with no urgency It appears like a malignancy. A dark, cancerous growth before me A sense of the gothic, the ennui yielding of Dorian Grey pleading for forgiveness—sins yet preceding Imagine a vast future canvas. Draped before your eyes' chasms And then the door is flung open wide. And your mother comes shouting to chide But then, with a look of shock horror She is taken aback and calmer. But its cold dagger has made its mark. Its eyes are like marbled jasper. Has switched on its evil dark cancer You're a ghostly white alabaster. Realising tomorrow daytime All will now be truly crystalline. That these are no longer night terrors But trials facing triumphs and errors Elusions and chains, dreams and drugstore Remedies without hope or recourse That these shadows hold your darker side You deplore but yet glorified And will revel in a future time Like a cyclone dust swirling repine. Notes of sin and trouble amber burning Good and evil wars overturning.