While I slept, a name was whispered in my ear

And I dreamt of a god who walked on feet of serpents—

A god whose servants numbered three hundred and sixty-five.

It gave me a symbol for each day of the year

Then sent me back to consciousness, where terror consumed me

            Like the flames that seamed his body.

The fire abated with routine

But when a Swiss man mentioned his name

            The conflagration rose.

And when the dead called the former's name

            A finger-vice scalded the circumference of my wrist.

And dragged me back to the god of

            Everything and Nothing

And all of those other capitalized pairs of opposites.

The god explained that each could not be without the other

            And showed that evil deserved to live and die

            Like good.

The god wanted me to know that humans created that fight between

            The Beautiful and the Terrible

To sate their trembling egos.

And as mine is sent back to my bed in trepidation,

The human in me prays to the sun for light,

And the shadowgod within quenches the fragile flame of my sanity.