DREAM OF HORROR
Placid faces deck the hallways of an empty world.
Where’s the tears, emotion, fears?
Heart pounding, I run throughout the balconies,
A movie of dead, pale faces flashing in the background.
Running with fear and want in my bones,
I stare at their fixed, smiling faces.
Nowhere to go, but home,
To run away as I always do.

The doves are so beautiful
Upon their delicate perch of man-made atrocities.
Gorgeous, so serene in their naivety…
“NO! Don’t! What are you doing?”
Shards of glass fly through the air,
Blood falls in pools; my yard becomes a battle scene of carnage.
The last thoughtful coos sputter in bloody throats…
The horror is not lost upon me.
“NO! Don’t! What are you doing?”
RAGE! I am crazed!
Holding their beautiful heads within my hands.
The blood turns to fire and with intense vengeance
I hurl it towards the gawking, smiling, fixed faces,
That have so carelessly destroyed such innocence.
“BE GONE! Leave your unfeeling hearts in Hell!”
Red colors my white walls,
Screams echo beyond the heavens.
A hand reaches up, pleadingly,
Upon the face is a smile, fixed in place so oddly,
And in confusion my rage climbs.
Now the hand lies upon the floor,
Decrepit and separate from its owner.
In horror, I corner the last of the last,
My rage driving me to do terrible things,
I never would do otherwise…
Her face is covered by blood and massed hair,
So utterly grotesque in its imagery,
I cannot imagine myself seeing such things,
And yet I rage at the girl,
“Show yourself, DEMON!”
She appears before me. She is me…
Beside her appears a man, her lover. My lover…
All that I hate is me, and in surprise I lash out.
“NO! Don’t! What are you doing?”
The last of my life slips away, and yet I run,
Running through the ocean of stains,
Fear dripping from my weapons, with my fire cooling… And then, he is there.
“NO! Don’t! What are you doing?”
His face is fixed, just like all the rest,
His hair dyed red,
And the lack of emotion so startling, I feel the rage build again…
He lifts his hand towards my face,
And swallows my hollowed screams as his bloodied mouth covers mine…
“NO! Don’t! What are you doing?”
“Now it’s your turn on my time…”
The last of the blood drips from lethal fangs,
The walls lose their saturated red and glimmer to white,
Outside the yard is cluttered with roses of death,
Up top, the doves perch upon their man-made atrocities…
And in the basement,
Down seemingly endless stairs,
Is a familiar head with a fixed and smiling face,
With eyes, once innocent, now death stained…
I awake with a start,
Sitting up in bed and shaking violently,
I stare upon my hands
And sigh seeing them clean…
What on earth could such a horrid dream mean?

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