Email Poem

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Poem

I like to be the hero in my dreams, 
                       a seafaring captain steering my ship 
                  to a new conquest with a beautiful woman 
                    in every port. I like my dreams dancing
                          with movement and adventure.
                      I like to be the victor over opposing
                         forces, the savior of the weak, 
                       I want to loot the riches of evil.

                 Damn it all, for being unable to control
                    the beast of sleep that pirates my
                   dreams away from its heroic feats 
                    and the saving of beautiful women. 
          Why do the demons of dreams devour my flesh? 
                 Those monsters gorging themselves
               on my good dreams, leaving me spent, 
                  suffocating in a hot river of sweat,
               dimming my lucidity and making me see 
                   my dreams from a prison of terror,
                   leaving my mind in a smoky glob, 
                    thus making me a prisoner of madness.

                They run me through fields of rotting flesh
                     and gleaming bones, naked corpses
                      with staring eyes, hands that strangle, 
                    knives that disembowel and blood that 
                 pours out. They humiliate me and beat me! 
              They make me a slave and become my master                                                                                                
              I end up sucking my thumb before they lead me
                        away and feed me to sharks.
                  why do they plunder my good dreams 
                          when I turn out the lights.

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