Written by: Deb Wilson

In dead of night the jackals scream;
the waning moon has faces yet to see.
Like moments lost in some far away realm
you shift your thoughts,you're swayed by true desperation.
Silently and swiftly formed the fear envelopes all
weakness and willingness to thus succumb.
Not unlike the chill goes down your spine when misery 
befriends the soul and circumstance speaks louder still.
Relinquish now the rules thus held for time untold
yet for a price the truth will somehow be revealed.

Now as the beasts go swiftly into the blackness 
of your mind,you stir and beckon something more.
Some fragmented,frenzied bit of reality that has
broken all the sheltered moments of denial.
In bursts of dawn the coolness soothes,it calms
the wounds of battles lost and memories struck.
Go long into that fearless day and don't look back
till all you hold as clear relief has slipped away.
Once again the night will tempt you into doubt.
You know this fear is yours alone to conquer.