Nightdance

Nightdance

Tiny men with round white heads
Tiptoe past our darkened beds
To whisper nightmares, scheming, dreaming;
Lies to make our lives lose meaning,
Tangling us in barbed wire webs.

In the collective conscious mind,
Laying waste to all they find,
The tiny men keep jeering, sneering,
Fear and paranoia smearing
What was good with thoughts unkind.

When the night has passed away,
And eyes crack wide to shades of gray,
The sound of footsteps skipping, tripping,
Tittering laughs from closets slipping,
Make us dread to face the coming day.