The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters(print by Goya 1799)

I sit at my desk,
with quill at my side,
To tired for rest,
unable to write,
Still drifting away,
to my subconsciousness,

Out of the dark,
nightmares come,
Tormenting my mind,
at the fall of the sun,
The demons are there,
waiting for me,
to drift away,
They won't let me be,

The vampire bats,
and visions of night,
Owls in my room
They attack,
scratch and bite,
Leaving their scars,
as I begin to write,

These are the creators,
that run through my mind,
when I'm asleep,
they're not hard to find,
no heed or warning,
never a sign,
but when I'm exhausted,
that's when they start,

Seeing these visions,
that's when I see,
Just what these creatures,
are doing to me,
they open my eyes,
to possibility.






Copyright © 2011 John Bevan