The Sandman

Late at night, in the midst of the dark,
When only the moon beams over the skylark,
A hollowness throbs within your chest,
Aching, wounded - when you should be at rest,
The Sandman, he digs, he gnaws away,
At any last sunshine, gleam, or ray,
Then uses your stolen, gravel merries,
To build his Sandy Sanctuary,
Now void of light- he'll amplify your fears,
Anxiety and Agoraphobia, tunneling, near,
You cry out in desperation, vacant of hope,
Then he'll use your tears to construct a moat,
Now he's untouchable, out of control!
The Evil Sand Spirit's power on full!
An ominous black hole vacuums your dreams,
Dismantles fond memories, love, self-esteem,
Instead, what infiltrates the ill-lit room,
Is Terror waltzing with Hysteria and Gloom,
In the distance, an echo, what your mother had said,
"Close your eyes, count the sheep, and go to bed."

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This is a great poem! I love your well-crafted rhyme & rhythm. I love how you carry out the extended metaphor of sandman to the hilt (love this: "build his sandy sanctuary")! You craft exquisite personification ("he gnaws away" . . . "amplify fears" . . . tears-as-moat) -- love your use of vibrant active verbs that convey the dynamic sensations of this punishing time -- trying to sleep! Fondly, Margie

[DAH]

This is one of the most Gothic of writes
that I have read in awhile: dark, hopeless, sad,
and it works.

Good job!

DAH

[VelvetPotato]

Thanks for the feedback, DAH!

[DAH]

My pleasure!