The roaches are tangoing with the spiders, near a tavern full of bats, humming the melodies snakes taught them. It’s dark, and ghosts look on at vampires going from bat to ghastly human…and they are all conspiring to do one thing: GET YOU!
Did I just describe what your fear looks like?
When your heartbeat sits on the top pike
And your breath loses control on the broken dyke?
Breathe, breathe. You break into sweat clinging at your sheets in the dark.
It’s just a nightmare: soon the sun’s light will bathe the singing of the lark.