too faint the morning

a little touch of horror in the night
it passes and the sunlight remains weak
the past's not pleasant and the future's bleak

we wait for monsters at the edge of sight
we wait since only fools would go to seek
a little touch of horror in the night

nothing will ever sapience requite
the largest bird has blood upon its beak
and no one intervenes to save the meek
a little touch of horror in the night