Sleep

Late at night,
I sit in general fright,
Waiting for the thing,
Thinking of it, makes my head ring,
For I will soon remember,
None that will soon transpire,
For it is ne like sitting by a nice,
warm fire,
Nay. It is more like
Ice eating through your skin like never before,
Like something quite opposite of herbivore,
But no memories will I keep,
For this is dreaming, and this is sleep.