Slowly, slowly, creeps the dawn,

with monstrous shapes,

and shifting form,

‘tween death and sleep,

my soul doeth lie,

this never world,

where hope does die.

 

Alas my sense,

it leaves me cold,

splintered spine,

as I’ve grown old

and weary of

this mortal world,

a waiting hell,

backdrop

unfurled.

 

The antidote

to death

is sleep –

where

Daemons

sneer, and

angels

weep.

 

© Hades  02.05.2013

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Hades. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)