Dawn like a faulty clock stuck to dusk
As darkness awoke slumber –
Pillowed by nightmarish mares.
We can no longer tell the difference.
Friendly pests, raised a lullaby
Mused by blood-spattered pain;
They joy in glutton’s delight,
Until restless hands put them to sleep.
Yet, the music streamed on.
Sight once sane in the shadows,
Now blurred in daylight’s fury.
Day becomes a kind of night
And night, a kind of day,
But we still can’t tell the difference.
And as truth begins to sprout,