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Poem

“Sleep paralysis is like a waking nightmare, except you can’t escape it.” – Unknown



Tonight, when the 
jilted bells toll, 
my decayed 
soul sighs,
I lay paralyzed 
beneath an estuary sky
of thin fluffy ruffles-
cashmere mattress 
of cotton coated clouds,
with stories over time-
like a silent slave chained 
to sinister darkness,
within an ice-gold 
casket of nightmares,
as my skin is folded, 
wrapped around,
inside black 
chiffon clothe-
this mind is 
held by ghosts,
shivering from 
echoing terrors,
whilst exhaling clusters 
of claustrophobic truth,
searching for the 
fight between 
shackled knuckles,
screaming, yet, I 
hear restlessness,
questioning the 
angels of sleep;
If this isn’t life 
after death, 
why do I hear
springs sing
seraphic symphonies
of celestial showers? 
Perhaps, the 
blinding glow
of drizzling diamonds,
and ivory pearls
of seven 
serene seas,
are mere signs of 
heaven’s gate 
being unlocked. 
Although I can 
barely move, 
third eye keeps 
pacing faster 
than my shadowed voice,
where I walk down
the lane of delirious visions,
wondering if this is
my Silhouette 
in a realm of lies.
For unwritten fate,
has lines of my
life quilted with silk
across a pillow of fog,
where consciousness 
is out of sight,
rendered colour-blind, 
and my heart remains 
a thief in duress.

But as I struggle 
to untie twisted
thoughts between
dusk and dawn,
I find stars of relief,
choking on mercy,
wrapped in denial-
I inhale moonlight, 
I am now awake.

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