by Jerry Langdon, 2016
Twas once 'pon a dismal dream
That I woke to terrifying scream.
My blood churned, toenails curled,
Uncontrolably my head twirled.
My mind a mist wrought labyrinth.
Possibly the haunting of absinthe.
Then the wailing returned.
Oh how my head burned.
That scream echoing in it's cavern,
Flowing down my spine; a ghostly cistern.
Flooding my veins with vile fear.
I hoped the alp to disappear.
No time spared, that hope broken
By that scream of terror unspoken.
Congregating unwill strength to stand.
Feet trembling 'twere they of sand,
'Pon my chamber's frigid floor.
Someone or thing released thunder 'pon my door.
An alluring voice begged for entrance,
Fading into an eerie silence.
Long, I stood; Silence grasping my ears
'Til my mind liberated of fears.
'Til my pit nolonger churned.
To beckoning bed I returned.
The blood congealed in my chest
To find myself already at rest.
How could I be here and in my bed?
Am I asleep, could I be dead?
Had I met my untimely death?
Would I test, could I detect breath?
Listening for a heartbeat; something faint.
Pounding stormed against my chambers restraint.
Accompanied by a maddening scream.
I hoped I was but prisoner of a dream.
The thunder 'pon my door
Apocalyticaly shook the floor.
As I neared sanity's fringe.
The door flew from its hinge.
The darkness hither rushed in flailing.
Without question my sanity was failing.
The darkness grasping 'twere it an octopod.
Thrashing like some demon squad
As it engulfed the room and me
'Til darkness was all I could see.
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