As I stare blankly at the page,
Me and my mind make a pact,
A pact with this book of nightmares,
This monster I put my pen to,
A sanctum for every horror that crosses my minds eye,
Or perhaps an asylum?

This is my unholy gift to you,
A window into my mind,
Full of horrors and abominations as it is,
I must continue to write regardless,
I must keep creating these literary monsters,
The book demands it.

I begin to write,
And the nightmares come out to play,
Letters and words creep from recesses,
Punctuation slivers hither-and-thither,
Sentences of madness begin to form,
I’ve released a monster.

Or am I creating it?

BON

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Comments
  1. pndrgn99 says:

    Thank you for taking the time to read. I’m spending time this morning reading your stories, they are very powerful. I spent 11 years building a sweat lodge in a maximum-security at Enfield Connecticut Bring you Native Americans from out West sweat with myself and inmates. My eyes are not blinded, I recognize a human and to me you’re not invisible.
    I’ll look forward to reading more.

  2. Osharlequin says:

    Reblogged this on WorldofHarley and commented:

    Book of Nightmares

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