NightMare
"Do I dare dream a dream that someone else has dreamt before?"
The dark corridors of my mind, touched by an enlightened force, do so I dream an unpleasing event that could so shrill your every dying movement, just by thought. I turn, restlessly, my head over the newly fluf countless times, trying to dispose of this sleepless night. I arise from my slumber, half drunk in my own sweat, weeping from the unpleasing scenes that my world has suddenly embedded into my thoughts, thoughts that should not be bestowed upon a helpless soul such as mine. "What is Next!?" I cried out towards an imaginative figure everyone seemingly worships, but I be the unfaithful, have always worshiped the lower end of the platform, the one no one speaks of even if questioned to. My mind races, searching for those unanswered questions, hopping by some miracle a savior has left the answers glued to an unexplored portion of my dearest thoughts. The torment of those sights rip through my head like an ocean tide rippling its way towards shore, only to die as soon as it strikes land. I caress my head, soughting out the images. I felt the pain no mortal human could ever possibly undertake, the pain of drowning in ones own thoughts. A breathly scream flowed from out of my throat and passed over my thin crimson lips, but oddly enough not a sound came fourth from it. I shift my eyes back under its blanket of flesh and darkness hopping it would all pass peacefully, but do all nightmares ever pass without leaving small marks in your mental being?
The Incurable Insantity
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