Die-Mention

All alone in the hot sticky dark of the night, When the howling wind wails its soft screams in starlight And as creeping cross moons is the witches delight, Still, and quietly weeping finds me in this fight No woman or man, crazy sober or worse, fearful even one touch, one sweet moment can curse All but purest most innocent dreams and their cast till at dawns first soft light send these demons to past Still in morning's sweet hopeful refreshing first light Rid my mind heart my soul of the cosmic night fright And with sweeping speed stabs, piercing hot like a brand, Darkest most terrible dreams of late creatures will stand