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Last night I lay in leaden sleep,
I had a scary dream
a visitor came to my bed
said I was prey for him
his hands were dripping red.

His eyes were cold, his voice a creak,
I fled on raven wings,
he followed on the breath of storms
he stank of carrion things,
his step called forth the worms.

I ran the sole off of my shoes
And walked my flesh to bone
my bloody spoor gave me away,
he followed dripping clues
I ran, refused to pray.

At last my feet were walked to nought
just splinters did remain,
I dropped exhausted and lay still
his laughter rang insane
I payed the butchers bill.

My grave was filled and weed did blow
and seasons cyled on
it`s of no use to rant and rave
this is a race that can`t be won
its finish is the grave.




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Comments

The following comments are for "Nightmare"
by Sneaky

Nightmare
I like it very much. I liked the subject matter.
How very true, we run all our lives, ignoring the fact that death comes to all, to die gracefully,
I hope some day to do.

( Posted by: alea [Member] On: May 17, 2004 )

Uhh...
I'll be up for a while. I like it
Thanks for reminding me that it is all cyclical, but that it doesn't mean the cycle is always the same, the running,jumping, fear, loathing, love and metaphor change just enough each cycle to let us believe it leads somewhere other than the grave

( Posted by: monkpeabody [Member] On: September 18, 2007 )





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