a - dreams.jpg

The dreams consume her every evening,
rip her apart and fill her with fear,
nightmare visions of a darkness inside,
no escape, endless misery.

She tries to numb herself with potions,
nothing can alleviate these twisted notions,
of demons within and horror around her,
how can she be rid of these torrid hallucinations?

Another night, another torturous sleep,
if she tries to avoid them, she’s left feeling weak,
for as much as they petrify, they also give her strength,
it’s hard to try and remember a time when,
this wasn’t her life.

Dreams keep coming, an endless cycle,
she’s stopped trying to resist and now succumbs each night,
she takes the strength and she stores it, for she knows she will need it,
to survive another evening of unrelenting fright.

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Wendy Pratt

Poet, Author, Editor, Facilitator

Inking Prose & Poetry

The Art of Prose and Poetry

Fevers of the Mind

Writing, Poetry, Short Stories, Reviews, Art Contests

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Where learning means more | Far a bheil ionnsachadh a’ ciallachadh barrachd

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