We have no control
Over the sleeping head
And dread
That our soul
May be exposed to the light of day.
For dark fantasies creep
Out in sleep
And in the land
Of dreams none may command
His wandering hand.

When we awake
Our dreams we shake
Off.
Yet, sometimes we may,
In the quiet of the day
Hear the devil cough
And whisper low
“I know
Where you go
In sleep …”.