I know this isn't dreaming; The voices of the night.
I hear them clear; So near.
But I do not talk back.
Have you searched the darkness in its depth,
To find the thing sitting on your nose?
I fear, I've fallen through the cracks,
I'm caught up in something - lunacy?
Feels like a fast moving train,
My head stuck out the window,
The wind rushing past my ears.

I'm fluttering by, but resisting still,
And back in my room, and in my bed.
Let myself go. Hopefully, to sleep.
But I travel again, wind rushing past my ears.
And I hear other voices too - familiar ones,
people that I know - my sister?
She lives miles away, a different town,
But she's complaining to her husband,
"You almost gave me a heart attack!".
And I know I'm not there, but yet I am. Lunacy?

Maybe this is the realm of spirits.
I hear everyone of them, but I do not talk back,
Some are living and some are dead,
They want to hear my voice; so, they goad me,
There's one thrashing out violently,
In that empty space beside me,
A king-size bed with me in it and my terrors,
It feels like my denial is the only thing,
Holds off the grave assault, from beyond the grave,
But the night is full. Full of ghosts.

Wow! My talented sister

This is a beautiful poem, in all it's darkness, it is beautiful. Great job babe.

Dimples182:
Wow! My talented sister

This is a beautiful poem, in all it's darkness, it is beautiful. Great job babe.

Thanks, dearie! I appreciate your comment.

RaggedyAnn:



Thanks, dearie! I appreciate your comment.

You are very welcome hun.

Dimples182:


You are very welcome hun.

Awwww.......nice dp. Really beautiful............cute dimples

RaggedyAnn:




Awwww.......nice dp. Really beautiful............cute dimples

Thank you darling

It's not beautiful in the conventional sense, it's spooky. The poem starts slow then quickly picks up pace, chilling your bones, curdling your blood with bare, unadulterated fear.

In the poetic sense, it's beautiful. It's lyricism at its finest.