Nocturnal Masquerade

  My fears in dark masks appear, 

 As visions, they sway a dance most obscure, 

 They flit through my psyche, 

 A galvanized mirror, 

 A bemused locale for these spirits, I trust, 

 This display of marionettes parades one after the other, 

 And in my mind's eye, 

 The portraits all blend into one another, 

 As the break of day begins to make way,

 In the blush of blithe rays,

 A laughable offense, I'm sure not intended, 

 In the darkness, or the hereafter, 

 They prompted quite a fright, 

 Of fevered dreams they undoubtedly were, 

 When left without a defense to my lucidity, 

 Oh, they caused me quite a stir, 

 They weaved a tale of worry and woe, 

 Displayed it in accounts with horror projected, 

 But as I woke the morn after, 

 Laying saturated in the adept shield of light, 

 As I view the terrors of the night before, 

 Through visions, like memories, like opening visual doors,

 They stopped being fearsome with no great malady, 

 If this is what haunts me in the obscure of night, 

 In confidence, they can visit as often as they like, 

 For if such austere fears try as they might, 

 I'll gladly turn in for yet another feverish night, 

 Where fears bedecked in masks once worn,

 By a more fearsome foe than they,

 Adorning the facades of decidedly milder peer, 

 I'll take it as a 'fearsome' tale, 

 And not fear the fall of slumber anymore.