In my bed

In my bed I dread transition
from wakeful fear to fell possession
by a veil of sleep crept into position
while I was listening to music
enthusiastic but refusing to amuse
myself by tempting fate by baiting
it to send me its worst unveiling
still a plucky courage burst forth teeming;

For cursed or diseased my mind is unceasing
I feed off a need to understand
and bad dreams and screams and
hourglasses nearly drained of sand
await those crammed with wicked schemes
and plans and other fiends
who've no decency at all toward fellow man
and await me too for some reason, it seems.