An Endless Almost Nightmare

Another night, perhaps,
it might have ended differently
(if it had ended at all).
For now, the dream remains the same,
unfinished,
coming to a stop
at the threshold of nightmare
without ever quite crossing.

The ending of dreams
of any sort
is always to be desired.
Despair is not conducive to sleep
while under-bed monsters go hungry, unfed.

But no amount of force
behind closed eyes
will cause the lights to flicker.
Better the white or the black than uncertain Limbo.
The unfinished dream,
the toothless terror,
lukewarm,
satisfies no one.