In Darkness I Dwell

How long will this dreary night go on Seems years since the dawn of morn Why does anxiety keep me awake What is this burden I cannot shake Heartbeats too fast within my breast Too quickly to grant needed rest There's no moon above to cast light This crepuscule gives birth to fright I smell the wax of candles burning but something keeps me from turning If this be a dream, I pray, let me wake for I've a thirst and hunger to slake My eyes are open, and yet I cannot see the willow outside; my weeping tree "Fear not," I warn myself in voice aloud the moon must be cloaked by a cloud I call out for Davinia, in angst and fear but my dear wife is not sleeping near I long to glimpse morning rays of sun Harried for never-ending night to be done Only sleep could bring a measure of peace and from shadowed night to have release but I seen to be shackled to the beast who fights the dawn's rising in the East Of going insane, I fast approach the brim tortured by thoughts, dark, dank and grim Whispers I hear, mawkish murmurs dim, "What will become of Davinia without him" Who speaks of me in grammar, past tense Someone who's lost all sentience and sense Fragrant air 'round me grows warm and dense Could that redolent odor be flowered scents A memory haunts my sleep deprived brain It's of a brutal nature, and cold falling rain An act of violence, like the angry sin of Cain A man's life taken; from a dagger he was slain Motionless in rest, but not on my feathered bed This unnerving moment is one I most dread In a sepulcher, on a satin pillow, rests my head In eternal darkness am I to dwell, among the dead