TRIAD


The children are blinding their eyes.

Someone is torturing someone in my sleep.

The moth is beating, beating on the window pane.


I awake to high-pitched cries,

stabbing like lasers into the mind of sleep.

Crouched in their beds, the children are blinding their eyes.


The sea looms up.  It is too vast, too deep.

It descends forever.  The winds cry out in vain.

Someone is torturing someone in my sleep.


The rain comes down.  The earth swells with the rain.

It's raining inside and out, and the waters rise.

The moth is beating, beating on the window pane.


I awake to my own cries.

Crouched in dark dreams, the children are blinding their eyes.

The sea looms up.  It has no tears to weep.

Someone's torturing someone in my sleep.

The world is flooding, drowning.  Down comes the rain.

The moth is beating, beating on the window pane.



Copyright 2010-2012 Paul Petrie