Dreams.

Like dreams, I wake to early
there's a sentiment left behind, 

Corridors and winding back,  to the upstairs of my mind

Only attics frighten me,

So dark , secluded with soot
And I can't calculate my steps
Or plant grace beneath my foot,

I only have what's heavenly I fight with cross to bare,

Demons stand for nothing,  when I'm in your loving care

But there's surely more than a trail to find, glory binds the way, and if I could I'd stay to dream, 

But another day.