Friday, October 20, 2017

It's a Nightmare

Here's a charming little sonnet I wrote one Friday the 13th:


Nightmare
 by Mark Alfred


Enveloping, it chafes and smothers you;
You have no warning; then it is too late
To keep from seeing what no others do.
This is your private torment; yours the gate
That leads into the hidden, dim recess
Of every misbegotten lust and dream.
For nothing here forbids: no foul excess
Can be denied in this dark-litten gleam.
Your self is yourself’s  pris’ner, and no cell
Could grip with clammy clutch to such intent.
Awakened, you must sleep, and who could tell
What horrors lurked in sleep, or what they meant?
It seems the grandest terrors still remain;  
Your pleasant, daylight heart must bear the stain.




Come back on Monday for more trips down Halloween Lane.  Now, head on over to Spock’s Record Round-Up for musical fun during Spooky Spock-Tober!
  

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