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MID-NIGHTMARES

It haunts the wicked parts of sleep,
where even dream's darkest corners will not tread.
Drowning shadows in the stinging tears we weep,
immobilizing dream and dreamer, frozen to the bed.

We cannot move a lower limb or arm,
and every image seen will prick the skin.
Grit fear, the grizzly thing will strike and harm,
and strangle dreamer with its seething grin. 

Darkest fears that make the blackest black look white,
and play frenetic brain with worst scenario and dread.
A thousand deaths as though the sky were blind of stars at night, 
nor birth by sun will cease these apparitions boiling in our head.

No air to lungs nor breath to spirit as we sleep,
and blue the blood is tainted by the plots and schemes. 
The heart may jump or run and charge to sudden leap,
and straightaway we're lost in frail and whispered dreams. 

Each of us delivered from the vile unpleasant thing,
for one warm soul to wake us with the morning's bell.
Companion, embrace and take us up and under wing,
and send the beasts of vision back to fade away in hell! 

By Edlynn Nau
May 12, 2015

Contest: Dark Poetry
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Placed: SECOND PRIZE

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