The dark was a lullaby to my eyes.

A tempting black to pull me to rest.

The lights beneath the dash told me not to fall,

But the lids above grew heavy,

My heartbeat slowed to a content pulsing,

And soon dark turned to hollow soot.

Colors speeding through my mind,

Smacking me with their tail ends,

Pulling me into their whirlwind,

Hurling me into earth,

Standing by while metal pierced

And metal crushed and metal numbed.

Fevered dreams, fevered screams.

No one to hear, no one to help.

So close to what could have been,

So far in a trench of puddled mud.

A heart of regrets beating ravenously

Beneath broken bones and singed cotton.

Eyes fluttering open to darkness.

Fevered dreams? Yes, only dreams.

I struggle to move, to reach.

I grasp with nothing. I turn curiously.

I see nothing. What once was, is no more.

Fevered dreams? No.

A twisted, relentless, reality I only see.

I lay trodden and empty,

Teetering on the edge of madness,

Holding onto what is left of sane,

Touching death in the face,

Feeling coldness and fear.

Feel, I cannot with this side of mine.

Never again will this arm come alive.

Slowly I close my eyes and pray,

Mumbling apologies and wishes.

Then the lights come, blaring into the night,

The night I lived a fevered dream.

A/N: Unfortunately this poem was inspired by true events.