by Jack Crimson Nightengale   Nov 30, 2016

My dreams have turned to waking nightmares,
haunted in peaceful slumbers like child scared of thunder,
the voices are calling like some hungry bears,
if I open the door they'll just tear me asunder.

Could it be that this was never meant to be?
Is it possible that this is all make believe?
Maybe this is just a twisted reality,
an alternate dimension to force my hand and make me leave.

I've been awoken to the coldest sweat,
my notepad is open but the words.. I forget.
My mind is stable and the idea is there,
But, something is inside my head and lurking in the shadow behind my chair.

I grab a glass of water to try and calm my nerves,
sweat continues to pour until theirs nothing left,
like a madman possessed, I placed swayed lines and fancy curves.
Snatched my words from the depths like it was a poetic theft.


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 1 year ago

    by Ben Pickard


    Excellent writing; fluent and well rhymed. I have to admit, the third stanza reminded me of the nights I wake up with ideas and find myself running desperately around in the dark looking for a pen and paper before the thoughts escape me. It really can lead to some restless nights!

    Take care and all the best,


More Poems By Jack Crimson Nightengale