Assailed by ever returning nightmares
Silent as a moths wings
Yet cruel and violent, a dwelling place of demons
And other seemingly more tender things
But their fragile appearance deceive
They come, they come, it calls
Surely worthy of my outmost fear
Ragged little dolls

Tiny little feet, tiny little hands
Tiny little still hearts
Shiny stearing marbled eyes

Who goes here? Come forth
From the shadows, let me see
Trembling with fear but still that is my wish
Because no dream can ever hurt me
In the pale moonlight a most hideous face
Laughing hysterically, more and more
Yet underneath, a withering reflection
Of a beauty that once was there
Awakened by screams, my own it seems
And the rumbling sound
Of the rain, a thin stream of blood
From where her hand touched
I dear not fall asleep, ever again...

By Khavaleiro Negro