~*~

Woke in the middle of the night

Drenched in the stench of sweat

From an unwanted dream

I left behind

Refused to experience

The Tom Dooly syndrome

Who never woke up from his

Endless sleep

As he found himself

Hanging from a wide

Oak tree

Somewhere in a lonesome valley.

~*~

I looked behind me

And saw a still open

Portal of darkness

Of what awaits me in my tomorrow

A dark and strange place

Where memories exist not

Neither in the now, past, or future

Where those before me

Are unknown entities.

~*~

My presence here at the present

Is temporary

I fear any moment

I will fall again into the unknown

So I reach for my old buddy

“Roscoe”

Cold dude of steal

.38 caliber

Bang!

But not at the now

Only if I begin to feel myself

Slipping away.

I can’t see myself within

A padded cell

With a blank slate

Where memories once thrived

With an unrestrainedable passion

Of self expression.

By: William Bonilla

D’Artagnan”

01/18/09