Somnivore

Breathe slow…

It tastes when you dream slow…

Every thought you’ve hidden —

It already knows.

It waits where the eyelids close,

Hunger carved in shadows’ prose.

Through silver veins of memory,

It drinks the light you’ll never see.

The hush becomes a tremor,

The tremor turns to roar.

You’re the feast it’s waited for —

The Somnivore.

It feeds in the night, it feeds in the day,

Tearing your waking world away.

Every thought is fuel, every fear a flame,

The Somnivore will call your name.

In the space between each breath,

It maps your dreams, it scents your death.

You run through halls of fractured sleep,

But every wall has teeth beneath.

The hush becomes a tremor,

The tremor turns to roar.

You’re the feast it’s waited for —

The Somnivore.

It feeds in the night, it feeds in the day,

Tearing your waking world away.

Every thought is fuel, every fear a flame,

The Somnivore will call your name.

It swallows the lucid,

It breaks the aligned,

It wears your face

When you open your eyes.

It feeds in the night, it feeds in the day,

Pulling your soul from the bones of clay.

Every thought is fuel, every fear a flame,

The Somnivore will call…your name.