Something To Be Said of Nightmares


There is something to be said of nightmares,
Sleeping soundless restless ached desire
That knows naught the prophetic fall of care,
The unrivaled darkness of thought and dire
Threats purging, mingling the obfuscation
Of the driving need developing thirst?
Twisting dynamo’s forceful motion
Forming carbolic fantasies first
Joined withered ideas with decayed ideals
Lost in gray soaked surrounding, all unreal.

Unreality blemishes the eye:
Movement corpsed,
Nature’s lifeline,
Widow’s door.
Leaving nothing, lasting never, all quiet.
The front extinguishes the meaning
Causing order chaos to develop
Questing for the last endeavor
Crumbling on the Fallen’s children.
Surrounded by the bleakness and the unquiet mind.

There is something to be said of Nightmares,
With darkness of desire and guilt
Perambulating Psyche and Eros’
Perverted, gangrenous lust.
With gaunt figures congregating
On the imagination of happy
Souls; while devils and horned
Mephistopheles danse macabre:
Requests from masochistic shades
Of joyful man desiring pain and damnation.

O jaundiced beings of darkness
Consuming life’s emptiness,
Vilifying inconsistency and hell.
Each individual washing sin in
Insincerity, while the blue-black
Tongues of liars salivate over
The translucent decay of the mind.

The Satanic erection of life
Creates the darkest depths
Of deepest desire
Relish the Sodomic decay.
Revel in the lusty and the vengeful.
Embrace the cruelty of life
And the satisfied purging that
Morpheus brings.

There is something to be said of Nightmares,
Each breath enabling the willing.
Unreality aspires, while dreams
Condense the fears into pitfalls
Of a thousand screaming Updikes.
Incubi twitter and chirp
Their Machiavellian competence,
As ones darkest despair
Enfolds for Malevolence to see.

As the sun of darkness, Despair,
Walks the elongated avenue of the mind,
Thoughts dislodge and jar the cerebellum
To act on discontented whims,
While shallow wishes disperse with
Lackluster hopes and dreams.
Grip the seditious demands of
Nonexistence.
Consider servility.

There is something to be said of Nightmares,
As melded minds twist the distorted
Chaotic visions of unreality
Into a miasma of order.
Woe-betide waifs imply evil intentions and

Knowledge of altruistic intent
Collapse on a sea of fertility.
Ideas shape from the surf
With foam, atrociousness encapsulated.
The thoughtful miracle of Prometheus.
Creation, one of doubt Unfulfilled:
Enchantment enhanced.
The dreamscape of your personal hell.

Spiders, decadent fops of Tartarus
Engage the minds in webs of truth
As souls seek a savior in desire.
None exist but those who beg
The suffering of malnourished Shades.
Honor- bound individuals suffer thought
To pass the void of lack, hot Need.
The machine of mastication feeds
The queer quiet of the dark
With the ejaculate of the spirit
Infusing the depths of sorrow
To the spires of ambition.

As the dawn approaches
The dreamscape dissolves
Leaving ideas and dark designs.
Prospect, collections, and
Beliefs perform crow-circles
Settling at last on the tip.

There is something to be said of Nightmares.