Yes it’s true
How demons exist
Despite how much
We refuse this
Still until our sleep
Sees them dancing
With a skeleton’s arm
Holding tight

Felt around each waist
As we waltz
Much realer than day
Could imagine
Where night brings truth
Even stranger
Facing faithless crawls
Fear performs

When begging for God
To be wrong
And removed from view
Though uncertain
How any such soul
Remains sacred
Missing countless threats
Every turn

Like an illness
Creeping through skin
Underneath what flesh
Appears sinful
But is really sad
Seeking answers
Placing orders now
Buying peace

Finding joy online
Growing numb
By effortless tasks
After working
Making nothing again
Getting tired
Just living alone
Needing rest

Learning devils
Disintegrate dreams
Killing hopeful thoughts
While they happen
During evenings
Waking up screaming
Heaven’s lies
Will always forget.

• J. Pigno