Deep sense of foreboding, an irrational dread,

they’ll be coming tonight as I lay in my bed.

There’s no logic or reason for thinking it’s so

yet convinced I remain, it will happen. I know.

Like so often before I stay prone in the gloom,

restless, considering my foresight of doom.

As the hours crawl by, more frustrated I get

at my self-induced worry, I’ve not been right yet.

I lament my own foolishness, but the feeling won’t shake

and I know now that sleep will not come ‘til day break.