Within the distant places of the night

Satin calls with levering crowbar

to sever the links of fortitude, and

propel me into his downward spiral.

Panic overwhelms me.


Will this be the excursion that never ends,

once the light of security fades,

once the lock to the door is driven home,

once the key is tossed into the darkness?

Panic devastates me.


Is this to be the place of sparking wires,

arcs from a storm’s crescendo,

the surge from my overburdened mind

earthed via the devil’s reaching filament?

Panic so confounds me.


Then, as dawn arrives, with her retinue

of songbirds and opening flowers,

the tightened folds in the curtains released,

I return, the angst and apprehension subsiding.


Am I mended, am I rescued from my torment,

or will I be transported there another night?