Night

Who can stand the fevered madness of night,
When angels and demons and monsters take flight?
When no one else even knows of your plight
Except the person in bed next to you?

What nightmares root in your soul
To come and reap the recent past's toll,
And it's hard to even take a personal poll
Of the last time it's been this bad.

The memories that assail me now tonight
Cut deep, run fluidly, yes, I might
Jab deeper still and go toward the light
Just to escape these Hellish figures.

What kind of existence, what kind of life
Is it to think always of the knife,
Or better yet, to end all this strife,
The loaded gun, already cocked?