The Nightmare
A poem.
A creature screeched, pierced her sleep
A finger crooked scratched her arm
Her body-snatched, hairs alarmed
Salt drops quivered, the air chilled
The room flickered white on black
Strobed off and on
Off and on
The finger stabbed, pores puckered
Her eyes shuttered, muscles seized
The bed juddered. She’s on her own
Screams wrapped up in the duvet
Was it a shield or a shroud?
There is no creature
She lives alone
Lightning fire and ice pulses
Electric currents like eels
Triggered full-colour pictures
Of sanctuary to grave
As her stilled heart exploded
It cast spiders
From her chest
Millions crawled into her hair
Pillow covered, up the walls
She cried to no-one who heard
Then flicked a switch to illume
A room without living form
While hackles cringed
One more check
On her knees with her limbs braced
She peered over the bed base
To be grabbed by clawed dead hands
That ripped and slashed her to death
Thank you for reading.
Here’s another poem for you.






