Midnight People


“The Nightmare” by Henry Fuseli (1781)

It’s the season of darkness, Halloween.  That means the nights coming alive with haunting tales of horror and darkness, fables of fear and stories to send tingles racing up and down your spine.  The following is a poem about the fear of the unknown, the black corners of our own homes and the powerful hold the unfamiliar can have over us.  Originally written on the 16th May 2016.

Midnight People

They come in the night
When the clock does strike,
Its deathly dozen
Incantations of fright.

From infinite shadows
They slink and they crawl,
As I cower beneath covers
Resisting their thrall.

Of the night they are born
In the blackest of corners,
When darkness calls forth
Its faceless foreigners.

Though veiled from sight
I feel their blight,
Leering from nooks
Teasing the strike.

But they do not move
Only linger and stare,
It’s enough to make me beg
For the sun’s morning glare.

They watch and they wait
Guarding my prison of fate,
These nocturnal jailers
Tormenting their inmate.

How long must I hold?
And when will they leave?
I pray for a swift end
To the nightmare-conceived.

As the sand slowly trickles
And my nerves are racked,
Threatening blackness engulfs me
My consciousness is sacked.

And when I awaken at daybreak
Gone are the sinister,
The faceless phantoms are slain
And I’m no longer their prisoner.

8 thoughts on “Midnight People

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