Dead Dreams

Just a little poem I wrote.

Dreams are the place,

Where your fears come to play,

Where skeletons wander,

And ghosts stalk.

 

Dreams are the place,

Where you hear the wind howling,

Where you hear the trees creak,

And the blood hound yowl.

Dreams are the place,

Where imagination is free,

Where you have no control,

You could die.

Reviews

[Jenny-Jen-Jen]

This is wonderful! Hands down. It's beautifully dark and I absolutely love it. I too often write about death-- I find it euphoric almost. This was an excellent write! Keep it up, keep posting, and enjoy your talent!

--Jen