Bad Dreams

The song of the night is a pleasant dream. 
When that song is sung, and the voices scream,
all Hell is awake just outside my door, 
souls lost on the sea never come to shore,
but I am asleep and am safe in bed; 
locked away with the horrors bound inside my head. 

The song of the night, in a pleasant way, 
makes me long for the dawn of a brand new day. 
Until then it's dark and the dreams return. 
Thus I lie here in bed; for the sun I yearn.

I must shut my eyes. Sun, please arise.