A leopard pads through my dreams by night,
And tears the fabric of my solace,
The wicked wind thrown up,
By an impassioned burst of speed,
Sometimes awakens me.
And when i wake,
And find myself in company,
Albeit, sleeping company,
The pang for predatory nights comes back,
When my bed was a hunting ground,
And not a graveyard,
Silent and spooky.