Lucid

When she lies down, at last, in search of sleep Her mind stays alert, not yet prepared to rest Her night ritual, quite exhausting at best Means shaking down her mind for good to keep. The cause behind this hides no great secret: As she desires power like a goddess; Her days shroud themselves in heavy sadness So she controls dreams to make her needs met. Yet despite how hard she may concentrate, Occasionally power escapes her And she always ends up fighting monsters. Her soul has been stained at quite early a date. Her rule may extend even to the weather, But even her good worlds hold others’ nightmares.