The Eye Of Gog Poem by Leland D'Elormie

When every drink is drained and every door,
Is bolted tight and silence fills the house,
The shadow moves; he slips across the floor,
Dark patterns break like waves on weary minds,
And all familiarity is blind,
And skin melts up the arm and down the back,
The demon's footfalls squeak at every crack,
So standing over me is my nightmare,
And also staring from my easy chair,
And looking through the windows and the walls,
And perching in the corners of the halls,
And clinging to my back and to my bed,
And pressing unseen things down on my head,
The lash that Satan hates is much too far,
I will not move to get it from the drawer,
I will not keep myself if he moves in,
He hugs the doorways, counting every sin,
The alien waste is vast, its fog too real,
I wriggle, helpless underneath his heel,
Saint Michael, save me, but perhaps it's you,
Who swings the sword of heaven into view,
Too real to be believed, our hearts are one,
The eye of Gog beams like a second sun,
'Sic Transit Gloria Mundi, ' says it best,
He steals away the world and leaves the rest.