By Tony DeLorger © 2011
What speaks to me in darkest sleep,
voices like echoes dragging me from blissful oblivion.
They taunt me so, their words hard and demanding,
if only I could understand their intent.
Like waves of garbled sound,
they encroach my peaceful slumber,
images flashing like lightning strikes,
I toss and turn in my numbing cloud,
trying to escape their affront,
only to be hounded with more determination,
their voices even more desperate, disconcerting.
Why me I ask, what do I have to offer,
powerless in this torture chamber of sleep.
Their pleading so matted not a word is understood,
just their earnest and panicked tones.
Faces pass through my vision,
lost and haunting, vacant stares wanting.
I do not fear them but they disturb my soul,
and I can feel them pulling me, this way and that.
Until the dawn breaks
and light beacons my consciousness,
I am in their control, lost in confusion,
waking to uneasiness and disorder.
I wake unrested and weak,
the passage of darkness lost to a pointless agony.
I wish them gone from my peace,
and let me find my oblivion, once more.
What speaks to me, be gone.
More by this Author
A dark humoured poem about growing up and making bad choices, becoming angry and getting into trouble.
A poem about the state of our planet and our duty of care.
This hub reviews the causation of human misery and describes the power of human thought and how we can create positive outcomes in life.
No comments yet.