Faye Sizemore


Peaceful dreams are
A thing of chance
For in the night time
The demons dance

Last light
Is slowly dying
And against memory
Tightly lying

There are the fears
Of the night
That will spend eternity
Before dawn’s light

Memory is a victim
Of circumstance
A gathering ground
For demons to dance

Playing their music
From other years
And making their
Feast on our tears