He felt his dreams
Slip pitifully
Into the cool snares of night

The morrow was comatose
Light
And unburdened by sound

Barren
Leaving his mind
To be flooded by torment

Nightfall
Spawned the eagerness
Of his inner perils

To gorge
Upon the fabric
Of his squalor-plagued sanity

As reveries were still
Pale and rigid
Through the ocean’s
Murderous refrain