In the night, the darkest pregnant night,
where shadows cast from windows
stretch like claws upon the walls
and heart begins to pound in fright,
as buried heads beneath the sheets
count sheep, praying for sleep.
Then in clouds of soft recline,
floating up sublime to welcomed dreams,
a mind set free
released for night’s possibilities,
finds a realm in which
to while away the time.
But a face appears, no angelic face,
but dark foreboding, sharp
and loathing in its countenance,
but I cannot move, floating in this woozy cloud,
this face with teeth so pointed, evil anointed,
its bony hands so threatening.
Terror strikes, makes my room
a wanted plight, anything but here,
and as this creature, about to strike,
lunges forward, I find myself
falling so fast, when I hit the ground,
its over, and my fear exacerbates.
Screaming terror without the sound,
wind rushing, confusion abounds,
as faster and faster I fall,
to death I’m sure, it will soon be over;
then suddenly I wake in fright, in my bed
and those shadows never looked so good.
My racing heart soon subsides,
and I sit up wet with sweat,
as those dancing shadows no longer appear
to be the fear that I had held,
no, sleep carries much more
to be concerned about. I pray…
May my dreams be less, and I confess
the fear I hold is just me,
afraid as I’ve been of life.
Yet, no more shadows cast
will hide my fears, as I face them
and in minds light, they be gone.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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