Nightmares
A slice of light strains in vain
through murky glass,
pouring shadows into corners like spilled ink.
Dust floats and coats the acrid air,
white with stale light.
The room is always grey, always silent... at first.
Until the silence breaks---
splintering like snapped wood.
A spindle without thread
drops from nowhere, rolls in karmic circles
across the floorboards in my head.
It stops at my feet; I bend to pick it up.
But when I open my palm,
it's gone--
And in its place I find an hourglass
Then - suddenly - I'm encased
in a giant vial of glass,
swallowed up by quicksand
that turns to sinking ash.
I bang bruised fists against glass walls,
but the more I thrash,
the deeper I fall.
I open my mouth to scream---
And I'm a china doll,
sitting on a dusty shelf -
paralyzed, demoralized,
with flimsy limbs, expression grim.
All I can do is stare
until morning's glare
answers my prayers
and wakes me up.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
