DreamStalkers

Tonight my dreams they rise
From their graves of age and decay.
Tonight my dreams they call
From the depths of endless gloom.

Who knows what a graze of her hands can do?
The fluttering of hearts, the disruption of rhythm.
And still they flutter like wings,
Fly away on the soft wings of Love.

For rust must be shaken off, rot too.
When the hulking figures call your name,
You simply have to drop what you do.
And respond to the sweetness of their hesitant summons.
And be wrapped in the clouds of fantasy.

Apt enough. Go figure.