Poetry for the poisoned pt.1

There was a time when I was young
A boy with bold ambitions
There was a time when I could tell the crooked from the wicked one

There was a song that someone sung
A hint of recognition
There was a time I knew you well enough to know you won't be gone

Come with me tonight

Tell me how it feels to be alive

There was a time I had respect
A name, a reputation
There was a time when I could watch myself without being disgraced

Come with me tonight

Let us find a place where we can hide

Come into the light

Let me show you how we stay alive

"The word incubus means to lie on,
and it was believed that any having feeling in bed,
such as a weight pressing down on your chest,
especially accompanied by nightmares,
was a sure sign that an incubus had attempted to have a nocturnal intercourse with you.
Given the religious fervor of the middle ages,
there's not all together surprising that the idea of a demon level,
was believed to account of this phenomenon "