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A nightmare to dog my thoughts
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Literature Text
A nightmare to dog my thoughts
Give me a place to rest and I will give you the world
A nightmare of poison and madness and cruelty
A nightmare that paralyzes my will, and brings me fear
Why should I feel something when for so long I have felt nothing?
Is it the madness? The unreason? The idea that so many would wish harm on one?
I know of madness, but the kind that grows and gives. One filled with humor and webs of hints and double-talk. Not this mindless annhilism. The persuit, the hunt of human life on the basis of something worse than hatred, worse than apathy. I cannot even imagine it, I could only see it.
And now I am unhinged, unnerved. I need my resting place, I think. But I still do not know if I know what that means.
But I saw them. Jetting planes and missiles and carry-tanks of slimy poison for spraying, and masks in gas and shower-houses where they were persued, where I was with them, and four of us hid in a nondescript corner of plastic screen and copper piping.
And relief was awaking to a house filled with pinhole-fountains of gas through the carpet, whose purpose I could not guess but I prayed I was safe, and snakes, so many snakes, small snakes that raised their tails when I drew near, and I feared the were poion in the darkness and I with my bare feet on the driveway.
Why this toxin? Why this persuit? This apathy? Why do I fear, when I have thought that I have accepted death as part of life? Why did it paralyze me in my bed? Why?
Why?
WHY?
I huddled in uncomforting comfortable warmth against the darkness and my vivid memories of this apathetic desruction. I rose myself against the warmth and left my blanket and prayed. And then I slept again awaking in the late morning.
WHY?
Give me a place to rest and I will give you the world
A nightmare of poison and madness and cruelty
A nightmare that paralyzes my will, and brings me fear
Why should I feel something when for so long I have felt nothing?
Is it the madness? The unreason? The idea that so many would wish harm on one?
I know of madness, but the kind that grows and gives. One filled with humor and webs of hints and double-talk. Not this mindless annhilism. The persuit, the hunt of human life on the basis of something worse than hatred, worse than apathy. I cannot even imagine it, I could only see it.
And now I am unhinged, unnerved. I need my resting place, I think. But I still do not know if I know what that means.
But I saw them. Jetting planes and missiles and carry-tanks of slimy poison for spraying, and masks in gas and shower-houses where they were persued, where I was with them, and four of us hid in a nondescript corner of plastic screen and copper piping.
And relief was awaking to a house filled with pinhole-fountains of gas through the carpet, whose purpose I could not guess but I prayed I was safe, and snakes, so many snakes, small snakes that raised their tails when I drew near, and I feared the were poion in the darkness and I with my bare feet on the driveway.
Why this toxin? Why this persuit? This apathy? Why do I fear, when I have thought that I have accepted death as part of life? Why did it paralyze me in my bed? Why?
Why?
WHY?
I huddled in uncomforting comfortable warmth against the darkness and my vivid memories of this apathetic desruction. I rose myself against the warmth and left my blanket and prayed. And then I slept again awaking in the late morning.
WHY?
This nightmare took away even more of what remained of my sense of ease.
© 2012 - 2024 Synaesthetic1
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