Dragons soar all through the skies,
And hunters search with eagle eyes,
Fairies fly on tiny wings,
And far away an angel sings.
Waters fall, rainbow bright,
And stars shoot through the starry night.
Giants and dwarves walk side by side,
And only goblins have to hide.
A wizard raises an old, grey hand,
And, on a whisper of magic, you fly through the land.
The wind's in your hair, and wolves run at your heel,
And nothing can compare with how you now feel.
But then you realise, as you look up,
With a vague hint of sadness,
It was only a book...
This night is safe.
The air is light,
The breeze the same.
The darkness a soft, warm shroud
The sounds and the scents and the sights are calm.
This night is safe.
Up.
Up high.
The eyes tight, silver shards.
The lips tight, thin, deep red.
The features stone.
Crouching.
Waiting.
Breathing,
Barely.
This night is safe.
This night...
The clock strikes
Once.
The mists sift and slide
(As the clock strikes
Twice).
Demons crawl from where they hide,
And the clock strikes
Thrice.
Hell's own hounds,
(As the fourth chime sounds,)
And the dead come to life
(As the clock strikes
Five)
Sup the devil's own mix
(And the clock strikes
Six).
A creeping malevolence
(As the clock strikes
Seven)
Invades and pervades
(As the clock strikes
Eight).
And as the clock strikes
Nine,
The beasts begin to dine,
And as the clock strikes
Ten,
You hear the screams again.
The eleventh hour sounds,
And the baying of the hounds
Looses dark power,
And the clock strikes
The witching hour...
I wonder
When I close my eyes,
Does the world cease to exist?
Gone in a second,
Brief moments unmissed.
And I wonder
When I close my eyes,
Does the world just disappear,
Leaving not a trace
To show it was ever here?
And I wonder
When the world closes its eyes,
And can no longer see,
I wonder,
What happens to me?
You lay there in your bed,
the echoes of your mother's words
rolling around in your head.
"Sweet dreams," she said,
You can see the light
under the door,
casting shadows
across the floor,
shadows that move
when there's nothing there,
waiting to drag you
into their lair.
You can see the moon
through the gap in the curtains.
You can see that it's full,
and you are, oh, so certain
that, should you look out
you'd see more than you'd like,
all manner of creatures
preparing to strike.
You can see your wardrobe
is slightly ajar,
and from inside
reaches an old, grey claw.
As it opens the door,
you can hear the low moans,
and you know it's just waiting
for your eyes to close.
But your covers are pulled tight
right up to your face,
your armour 'gainst the night,
as your heart starts to race.
Your tired eyes dart
all around the room,
and you hope beyond hope
that the sun will rise soon.
You listen to the breathing
of the monsters under the bed,
and you remember your mother's words
"Sweet dreams," she said.
On the wings of Icarus
I fly.
I am risen up
by your touch
and your lingering taste
and your breath
I soar in your eyes
and swoop in your hair
I dive at your absence
and plummet at your despair
Then I glide
as you smile
And on Icarus wings
I fly