The Day Lucy Fell

A very amatuer stab at attempting to write poetry.

Here I sit,
Late at night,
Wide asleep,
And yet I write.
Words back up,
Behind this dam,
There I was,
And here I am.
Words forsake me,
Now my dear,
As I sit within,
Your darkness here.
Dare I hope,
Or even dream?
Ahh, to sleep,
Perchance to scream?
I see the men,
In tombs of white,
Who grasp the darkness,
And shun the light!
Who lead the blind,
Straight to hell,
And forget the day,
When Lucy fell!