MY NIGHTMARE (FEB. 25, 2011)

MY NIGHTMARE (FEB. 25, 2011)

This is the story of a nightmare, not dreams…

I’m standing in what appears to be a garden it seems,

Yet the only thing growing is a withered, black rose,

I approach it, intrigued by it I was I suppose,

As I reach for it, its thorns pierce my skin,

Pulling me forcefully within,

My body wrapped in vines punctured by its briers,

Drops of my blood fall to the ground and set it afire,

From the inferno rises a devilish being,

Her eyes dark as the night, yet she has angel’s wings,

In desperation I ask, “Who are you?”

She replies, “I am the death of you.”

I presume a succubus sent to steal my soul,

I cry out, “Never will you gain control!”

“Oh, but only the contrary.” She says,

“These pills within my hand will revert your ways.”

“Never again will they possess me!” I shout,

One by one, she feeds my mouth,

Her torturous ways continue until my body seizes,

Into my own puddle of blood, my limp body do the barbs release,

At last the rose turns red,

For it has taken in the blood that I have shed,

All around my lifeless body the garden blooms in brilliant peace,

Almost paying homage to me, now deceased,

I can only assume the moral in this terror of the night,

Is pretty clear to me now in hindsight,

In order to sustain life, I had mine taken away,

The only frightening thing is that this nightmare is not fictitious in any way.

-brad