Pulse of Dread

Lashing out at an enigma of fright,
shadows dance in the dead of night.
A fear unfathomable, a ghostly shape,
haunts the corners from which I escape.

Digging deep for a colder pulse,
a rhythm beneath that halts and convulses.
Trying to steady the chaos within,
to modulate the beat, to hold back the din.

The clock ticks on, each second slow,
wondering when the light will show.
Checking the time for a glimmer of dawn,
for the sun to break where darkness has drawn.

But the pulse is erratic, a feverish sway,
echoing the fears that refuse to decay.
I lash out again, grasping for air,
digging through layers of doubt and despair.

For what is this enigma that holds me tight,
a shadow that shivers beyond my sight?
Is it the echo of past regrets,
or fears of a future not answered yet?

The sun shall shine, I tell myself still,
but the pulse beneath remains cold and shrill.
A modulating beat that I cannot control,
as I wait for daylight to rescue my soul.

When will the warmth dispel the night,
when will the darkness give way to light?
Checking the time as the seconds wane,
hoping for solace, release from pain.

Yet the enigma remains, a riddle unsolved,
a pulse that trembles, unresolved.
But I hold on tight, waiting to see
if the sun will shine, and finally free me.