I'm scared of my imagination.

I hear, see and feel things I shouldn't.
It scares me.

You hear barking, I hear howling.
You hear chair scraping the ground, I hear screaming.
You hear snoring, I hear wailing.
You hear in between radio stations, I hear cackling.
You hear sliding, I hear snakes.
You hear buzzing, I hear a bomb ticking.
You hear church bells, I hear the call for death.
You hear chopping food, I hear execution.
You hear the waves, I hear the drowning of the unknown.

I can't stay in the dark,
It's what I imagine I fear for.
My heart runs for it's life,
But it's stuck in the same cage.
And it's walls are scraped,
With tally of the times it will never get out.

You hear a tap, I hear drowning.
And I am flowing with it. In it.

Shake my head away from the dreams?
It's not as easy as you think.
When they taunt you,
While you sleep,
You dream,
You eat,
Scream.
I do.

It's just a nightmare...
- No it's not.
It's real;
It's my imagination.

Telling me things it shouldn't,
Making me feel things I shouldn't.

The imagery is too much, I cannot see;
Blind.

The wails, howls and screams are getting louder;
Deaf.

I’ve run out of voice,
To speak, to express, to call for help;
Dumb.

They say your imagination cannot hurt you,
Yet I’m screaming, running away from it.
But I can't – it's stuck with me, 'till I die.
Die from the fear of myself?
I will.

Thousands of doors are going
To open Today
After a Long Day
Of Sultry Dark
Slowly moving Clouds
But what it is!
As if the speed of the wind more than
A Hurricane

Extreme sound Rocking the Sky,
The Home
And the Expanding
Barren Field,  
Repeatedly being Thunder Around
As far as I can See
Across the Horizon
The Rain has come down
As Cats and Dogs
 
Dim Light in the Room
Hope, despair shaken
Windows Open
Southern waves
Randomize the Poetry Books
Flying Pages,
Never before or after in the

The Scent of the Poetry
In the Air
Sky-word Sentences
I have seen my Reflection
In the Light of the Short
The past Knocking
On the Closed Door
To open the Wide Sky

You have sat down
In the Horizon
That has reminded
The First Love Poem
Where I read
And planted my Dreams
Bringing the garden
Roses,
Marigold,
Sunflowers

Where there the moonlit
Of moonlight has
Crafted the Dreams  
Like an Imagination
As if,
Unclogging Peacock's Feather

But the sudden wind  
Increasing the Velocity
Light has been Extinguished
Yet the Flame Alive
But don't see my Reflection,
In the distant Glass,
In the Poetry,
In the Words

In an Angular way,
Through the Windows
Rain coming into the Limelight
Put away the Poetry
And the Dreams
As the Books of Poetry has Seemed
Like the Stones

But Yet I'm waiting,
For The Next morning
Where the Hope will Come Again
In the Shining Smile of Light