Sharing Darkness With The Dead

Sleep comes easy,

Then it comes hard,

I listen to the footsteps of the dead,

And give them room to sit upon my bed,

I know you don’t believe I’m unafraid,

But I dream and speak,

Share and yell,

Caress and push,

The deadly souls at night,

Often some that I don’t know,

Bother my darkened home,

With glimmers of their distant hopes,

Which they hope that I can float,

I do not yet comprehend,

God’s purpose why I see the dead,

I just hope that they are lead,

To a place they can be fed.