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

sight. 

If only …