Of demons and nebulas

I tried to slay your demons last night
As I attempted to slip from consciousness.
In the darkness colour flashed so bright
And formed into shapes amidst the mess.

The nebulas swirled and the lines, they strobed
As blotches coalesced in places,
But, as sleep was not yet fully probed,
What me that was wakened saw forming faces.

Reason has no place in this realm.
Logic is pointless; chaos abounds.
My intent? To grasp a demonic helm
And cast it's bearer unto the ground.

"Free my maiden from your vile possession,"
I'd yell as I exorcised my rites,
"To save her you must learn your lesson,"
Then slay your demon with righteous might.

But sadly I could not best the foe
And was cast abruptly from my slumber.
To gasp for air; awake, but slow.
I must return to clock it's number

And return I shall and if not tonight
Then one day, my love, I will
Rid you of your horrors and your plight
And let your mind be still.