Desensitization

Relishing the agony
of stinging nightmares' mark
is a trick whose goal most cunning
does hamper coming dark,
for what is sunlight of a dream
but one of terror's absence?
And all that does grim fantasy clean
is having known too well its talons.

Lies

Does the passage of my righteous
feign for sake of wrong?
Does my tunnel weep, blasphemous
in its seemingly syrupy song?
Is my voice merely caniving,
a plague my eyes from blinded?
I shall halt my every striving,
for evil's in all I've kindled.

What world.

My paws roam the realm
of a world caving in,
an ocean one moment calm
abruptly thrashed by wind.
Can not the threshold bare
my minuscule requests?
But see the gates of paper tare,
a tear such a conquest.