Every night,
Every single dream,
Filled with the same image,
Of a dreadful horror from beyond.
This can't be real,
This can't be natural,
Something magical,
To let the beast of the dreams run amok free in the wild.
A warm gush of emotions,
At every sight,
At every thought,
As blood spurted with the claws that dug in.
Every moment a painful dot,
From across centuries,
And another life,
Did the beast be slain by spells unheard of.