Aware, with all sense

brought up to unneseccary,

an eerie tale, that bites at me in the brink of night,

I awoke with sweat scouring my neckline,

My last memory only on the brink,

of uninformed salvation.

My hand grasped the railing, my mind let go.

Then, I was awakened.

Familiar eyes still sneer at me in their own glow, and I cannot quite depict who it is that sent me flying.

I’ll have to thank them later.