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DARK RECOLLECTIONS
By Nicholas Frye
I must not, I will not, Lord, I dare not sleep!
For so many nights, I have long ago lost count,
Came the horrors, the dark things, those terrors too deep
To be known in light of day; after nightfall they mount.
Before I am even aware that I sleep,
They slip through the dark veil into my dreams.
On the floor, to my bed, to my body they creep,
I cannot move, cannot speak, but my tortured soul screams.
Oh, God, or any good powers, please hear!
I need a night's peace; I'm growing so weak
Each night it is harder to shake off the fear.
If I sleep again, they shall have what they seek.
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