Night Terrors (finished)

[Brownlie]

Vespertine

The air is always flat this time of night,
flat and cold and quiet, like the lake outside,
in wintertime. My breaths, I slow down, I steady,
I keep soft: I don't want to break the ice -- Seems like too many I's.
and drown, get swallowed whole.

When I sleep, I never turn off my room's light,
a sun lamp. Why does no one let me walk outside
at night? There, the twisted trunks of oak are steady
in their places: there, the darkness is sure,
unlike the shadow of my bed.

Like the shadow of my bed, the wilderness, at night, -- Too many nights.
is home to creatures fanged and clawed. But outside,
at least, the horrors are familiar, real and steady
in their motives, while my bed-sheets
shelter only water.

I've been swallowed whole, before. I remember light,
cold moonlight, breaking through the winter ice outside,
filling my lungs, choking me, washing away my steady,
never failing faith. Then, I was pulled up
by the rooster's crow.

I would advise cleaning up the repetitions and avoiding abstractions.  There seems to be some rhythm there. I don't know what Vespertine is though.