Moving pictures give way to words
that are not spoken, yet are. Woven
in time, placed upon parchment for
eyes to peruse at some later date …
It’s the middle of the night and sleep
eludes my mind. That elusive dream
of neverland where life is free and
dreams rule. If only I could go there
in my sleep!
But, the nightmares, they plague me.
Insufferable images of death, my own.
Oh, there once was a saviour there, in
the night, in my nightmares. A heart
of gold he was.
Now, I fend off the monsters of my
waking world in my dreams. Nightmares,
asleep as well as waking. Is there
not a Knight who can defeat such
creatures such as nightmares?
I can only daydream of one who can
tear them limb from limb. Yet, only
in dreams of waking state is he there,
just off in the background, out of
If only …