The Night 7/100

The nighttime scratches at my door,
but it can’t scare me anymore
shadows strengthen as they climb
dancing a most vicious mime.

Still, I am safe, for I am dead,
there’s my body, on that bed.
No breath, no beat, no soul to steal
I awoke and this was real,

Monsters lurk for the living mind,
in death is peace, or so I find,
Claws that scratch at the window pane
wont find purchase, I lack membrane

That poor body though, lying cold and alone,
beloved vessel of flesh, sinew and bone,
Its friends live on, though, they will be sad
Whatever has killed me, it must be bad.

What could strike me down so swift?
Between soul and body, no previous rift.
The darkness creeps, stealing closer still
even spirits shiver in the growing chill

Perhaps this is a temporary state,
an early death need not be my fate,
I’ve lost my hunger, having tasted grave
Surely mine is a life that I can save?

The room is quiet, I can’t scream
shades snicker, stalk and scheme
The hours late, I’ve been gone long enough,
getting back in my body shouldn't be tough,

I reach across to touch my face
and the eyes open! -but in their place
is not my sight, this cannot be!
In my body, is not me.