Clutching the night mind,
a creeping claw,
pieces of a long defeated enemy.
Pride sickens the sight,
weakens the pack,
a circus ego that persists.
Weapons that are turned against you.
There is a terror in this world,
that all dreams can come true.
Wake to horror,
a unbridled Hell,
that spreads like wildfire,
its symptoms too numerous to combat.
Fear is the host.
The Typhoid Mary,
latent in our dream state.
Almost able to be refined
down to liquid tincture.
Driving madmen.
fixed on the their megalomaniacal ends.
Insane fever dreams
that become the new reality.
And you, too,
when you shake yourself loose,
from that spider’s web,
the assailant’s grip,
the demon’s unholy laughter,
you are free from the nightmare,
but it is already changing you,
reshaping your life in its own image.
Peel back the layers
of an ordinary life
and you will find horrors
that you cannot possibly imagine.
We are all tormented.
Assailed from our sub-conscious.
Made malleable by our fear,
dreams and weakness.
Calm.
Peace.
Eyes close.
Breathing normal.
Pulling the curtain on another day.
The mind drifts off
and the monsters awake.
HG – 2018
