The Ghostly Night

It's the nights that are hard. 
Cold and dreary. 
The lights go down and
 the imps come out
Whispering terrible tales into my head. 

It's the nights that are lonely.
Misty and damp.
The sun sets on me and 
The devil turns up
Suggesting venomous yarns into my ears.

Someone turn the switches back on.
I can't have him find me again. 
Won't let him dictate my affects 
I'm not one of his little puppets
I am grounded. I am sane. 
I am drowning. I am pain.

It's the nights that are bitter.
Hurt and fragmented.
The dark settles around me.
Look there he comes
Brewing me a hot cup of madness and rage.