The boy's breaths shallowed
as his nightmare groaned
in anticipant pleasure.
Weary from the battle, the boy resigned
himself to its wishes, and
saw it surge into being
as he sunk into oblivion.

His floorboards began to bubble,
slowly crumbling as grass
blades broke them into soil.
The walls began to writhe, as if in
agony, and suddenly burst
apart to allow the sallow moonlight
to tendril around the boy's bed.

Oh Jesus! he prayed, feeling the
dank air cling to his body
lustily, filling his pores with musk.
Daring to peer over the edge of the bed,
the boy trembled, watching his
nightmare quickening and shaking the
transient ground he rested upon.

Determined to appear brave, he
gritted his tiny teeth into a
grin of grim defiance.
Silence - and then the dark
murmurs of madness shrouded
him in laughter, tempting the boy to
leap into the Pit of Peace.

As the night passed, the boy grew
weaker, weary from the weight
of utter loneliness.
He tired of the torment of endurance,
and the wan light of the moon
penetrated his heart and filled it with
Coldness, numbing the boy in Victory.

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