The house beings to silence
Even the creaks have gone to sleep
It's the hour of ghosts and regrets
When slips of the tongue can break your back
It's no longer today
But tomorrow's distant footstep
Out of reach, out of sight
The searing limbo between love and hate
The leaden uncertaintly at your core
The hour when doubt begins to creep like a thieving rat
Taking tomorrow's dreams in knobby, choking claws
But you'll wake soon.
You'll see my light, the macabre glow of gold
and ask me back to bed
Let the hour pass, forever will be better.