Many a night I lay motionless
upon a delightfully soft bed
with many thoughts flowing
like water in my mind.
Darkness seems to engulf
the earth with its invisible
heart that bares no reason of
Thoughts become dreams and
dreams become stories but still
they are the children of imagination.
Light fails to filter through the
thick, dark cloud that travels across
the sky; even stars seem to be the
essence of myth.
Fear opens its black and bony hands
ready to embrace my soul for the
seed of fear was planted within
my heart by a unknown being many
dreams ago; darkness beholds
many secrets but most are long
My soul has been caressed by fear,
it makes my heart beat faster, my
eyes shift from side to side seeing
images that are truly not there.
A fear caressed soul is one
of commonality that one tries
to deny then yet it becomes part
of us during the small periods of death
that occur every night when one’s
head is bestowed upon a feather
light pillow ready to wander in
to a land that is truly unknown;
the land of imagination.