Nightmares

I'm leaving some home on a curious night
my friend stays behind, says it doesn't feel right
I picture you grown, then a ghost high in flight
and I wake with unbearable fright.
Now I'm up writing poems, alone in the cold
while my dream stands beside me and my heart pounds below
and I wonder if ever I'll know when I go
what becomes of the rest of the show.
As home is a place where we hide from all sight
and sleeping's a haunting side show,
And dying is something that comes once in your life
twice if you enter your soul.

it's night time was now is to be
transposing philosophically