Some poetry. Some prose. All heart.

Saturday, April 6, 2019


In the midst of my darkest
Of nightmares,
I’m the last one alive.
I can't speak,
Can't move,
Can't escape what's coming.

My feet are
Cemented to the floor,
A whirlwind of fear
Churns in my stomach,
And my pounding heart
Muffles the noise around me.

My attacker approaches,
With a menacing sickle
In his bony hands,
His black hooded cloak
Flowing in the inferno
Trailing his path.

He strikes,
Swinging down upon me,
Aiming for my chest,
For my soul,
And I can't do anything
But brace for impact
And scream.

I force my eyes open
And sit up in my bed,
With beads of sweat
Trickling down my back,
Gasping for air,
And ever so thankful
To be awake.

1 comment:

  1. "Flowing in the inferno" - love this image. - Erin (