Nightmares

[pomes]

What has my fearless child now learned to fear?
Perhaps she knows there's temper lurking here
My soft voice and my calm demeanour mark
The hiding of a passion vile and dark

Perhaps she knows that underneath the love
Is anger, cruel and hot. Her fear is of
Me. Her mother. She's afraid that I
Will cease to cherish her, and make her cry.

Perhaps she fears what I fear too - maybe
My self-control will falter and then she
Will be the closest target for my fury
And she cannot defend herself with beauty.

She's crying, crying out though she's asleep
She's crying, whimpers sore to make me weep
She's crying, even though we hold her tight
She's crying, crying lonely through the night.