Lyin’ on the bed,
dreamin’ of nightmares I’ve never met.
A glittering show of blood,
a scene that surely won’t be done.

Tick-Tackin’ is the clock,
I just don’t care about those eerie sounds beyond the lock,
whispers full of black,
like someone is trying to enchant a cat.

Earin’ knock-knocks on the door,
Death itself is down the hall,
it’s close enough to make me scared,
but far enough I barely care.

Sparkin’ is the future,
even if I already see some ugly failures.
I’m afraid, but I don’t hide,
so why should I even think that despair that’s no longer mine?

From the depth of my cage
I saw you pretending to be
Not my keeper
Releasing me, only to chase me
Into my own nightmare
Of charred souls
Standing helpless
As I watched the ash blow away

….
….
The door drew fate.
A face amidst the darkness?
My anxiety inflates.
…
…
A passing day draws in darkness,
each day an eye sees me.
My senses urge, trying to decree;
For It finally began,
It now watches, it can now see.

…
…
I have fled my place,
But will it ever follow?
I closed the lights,
lifted them in darkness,
My feelings ever hollow.
…
…
I may be crazy,
But this is forever true.

It was never like this,
It was my fault.
I had defeated my own nightmare no less,
But my actions caused it to bless.
A cage in a basement I made,
It turned that to its charade.

Now I shall find something to confront,
It shall never leave my front.
An existence that shouldn’t exist.
I shall annihilate that, fist with fist.

An old shadow, with yellow flaming eyes.
I looked in past at time, I try,
Four preceding angelic numbers of time,
Guided times hand to defeat;
It was something, my greatest feat.
The nightmare that I caged.

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥
𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.

For I shall now figure this cursed time,
Else I will meet an inevitable demise.

Tell me this is not the end
I don't want things to end this way
My hands are numb
I am losing breath
Panic attack
Getts in my way
I am spiraling
My emotions all around
Somehow it feels like the end
But it is just another nightmare night
And tomorrow will be another shiny day
Until the night falls down again

I am but my own foe.
A mere shadow of poignant speculation.
A culmination of nightmares,
An ugly tainting facade of fantasies.
A palatable fluid, ample to make one vanish.
A perpetual glamour of wondrous thoughts.
A package of slain ambitions.
A puzzle, static, unresolved.
Uncertain of genesis,
A mystery unfit to resolve.
I am but my own Frailty.
A dream not to cherish, but to disregard.
I am, or am I?

A life of many,
A life of not.
To know any,
To know rot.
I have seen,
for what I have not.
I have done to know,
That I cannot.
Escape my rage,
For I have wrot,
Is my own cage.
A nightmare,
That I broken.
A sage of mirrors,
For I have sought.
No reflection,
No dedication,
Anything I have knot.
Everything is futile,
For it is eternally mine.

I'm fond of this image of him,
sweet, vulnerable, gentle.
He knows all my games,
and still he crawls to me.

I feel seen,
almost protected
almost loved.

And I can't help but wonder,
in the late Saturday morning
what would have been of us.

If only he had learned how to read,
my poetry, my soul, my self,
if he had listened to
my voice, my plea, my cry.

But for him I was invisible,
and just like in chess
I learned how to end a king,
with foolish moves.