The demons strike at dawning
When the day is barley lit
First a scout in soft-soled shoes
Then a trio comes to riff the blues
Then quickly the whole damned hoard
Of demons short and demons long
They grab your throat and steal your song
Before the sun can break the plane of moving day
The demons stay and squat on every happy thought
Until the day is fully wrought
With demon haste and demon waste
So at the first soft glimmer of the light
Grab your sword with all your might
Slash it full along the line
Where sleep does end and day begins
Cut them off and do not mourn them
They’ll be back upon the morrow
Time a plenty then for sorrow
Take this day and shake it free from demon grasp and
demon glee
JRMcF
johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com
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