You don't want to know my dreams

I try to forget them

for they are all nightmares ---

dark and filled with

faces dark, dark places

with jagged rock and black stone

reflecting the light of darkness

that no one can see

opaque greys, charcoals

a blue so black it fights back tears

dry, moistureless, ceaseless doom

gloomilously raging its power to destroy

employing tactics that bend the mind

the soul has no where else to go

but within itself, crying itself

to sleep and rest . . .

You don't want to know my dreams

my nights, my days are distant kin

staying longer than they should

returning again and then again

with hands outstretched and promises

to make and then to shatter --- break

to smile both wide and toothy grin

and sin --- so much to speak about

to shout about --- to pray about

(if only the Mighty Lord would hear)

and speak forgiveness in His name.

You don't want to know my dreams

I carry forth from dusk till dawn

with teary eye that cannot weep

a weariness that cannot sleep

struggling onward, to stumble --- fall

try to remember, to recall

the better day when dreams were fair

(the happiness that I seek there)

now far away, another time

another page, unwritten rime

I stumble, fall --- to cut my flesh

on jagged rock and blackened stone

and tho I may seem all alone

I cannot claim such dreadful fate

of this, of this I cannot think

or reason past my second drink

(my soul has no where else to go)

but to the darkness

to sleep . . . to rest . . .

(c) 2007. simpoet