
A bit Morbid, a poem about being prone to nightmares, and when they leave you.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Poetry/Hurt/Comfort - Words: 119 - Favs: 1 - Published: 05-12-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3021908
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"Nightmares"
Every time I think they go away, they come back
And every time I close my eyes, it's like an undercover attack
They attack my brain, with images of deceased,
With images of those dying, and images of grief.
When I open my eyes again, the clock says a different time,
And that's when I sigh, relief, it was all in my mind.
These Nightmares haunt me, like a cycle through my days.
At night, I hope, and to a god I don't believe in, I pray them away.
Happiness comes with the revelation, all this pain, I no longer have to conceal,
But Sometimes, I miss these images, because back then I could feel.
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