Member-only story
The Old Hag (Sleep Demon)
A Poem (Quatrain)
The Old Hag rests upon my breast,
malevolence sent on a quest,
to claim souls in the twilight hour,
demonic beast amassing power.
My muffled screams lost in the fray,
limbs paralyzed there where I lay,
possessing souls throughout the night,
she won’t take mine without a fight.
New valour pushes fear away,
and silently bids calm to stay,
my twitching limbs regain control,
tonight I’m keeping my own soul.
Bright glowing eyes glare back at me,
she sears me in her memory,
reviling as she takes up flight,
surceasing for another night.
Copyright © Norma Martiri
Form: Quatrain
The sleep demon or the “Old Hag” still haunts us in the age of science. I’ve had few episodes in my lifetime and it still terrifies the hell out of me even though I know there is a logical explanation for it.
You wake up in the middle of the night and you are unable to move. You feel an evil, menacing presence in the bedroom…
