In the Myst

I am pulled helplessly into the smog of eternity

My brain tingles with unknowing

And my senses numb from the myst

 

My movements hindered

By the thickness of the air,

I cannot see and do not wish too,

I fear what knowing will bring.

 

I only feel tiny prickling at my skin,

As if a thousand tiny legs were running across it.

But I see or feel no other presence

 

My brain buzzes

With thoughts of what could be happening,

I imagine insects of all sorts invading my flesh.

 

My fear consumes me,

And I lose my rational mind.

I lose everything,

I know nothing except the white myst

 

I no longer feel my heart beat,

Or even the prickling.

My world gone

I wait for what I think is death

 

But moments later I lunge myself from my bed,

A wail of terror dies on my lips.

And I realize the truth,

I was only dreaming.

 

Author's Note

Please review!!! :) this is for a contest...i know the word myst is spelled wrong that is what the person who made the contest wanted. ^.^

Reviews

NIce. This describes how I feel when I read deadly consequences.

[chaffy]

it is interesting. a good poem withthat title, myst. the photo was catchy too. this poem was, to me, a little different from your usual writing styles, although, i thought it was just as good. :)

[Tara♥Undefined&h..]

wowzers mary!!! That was really good. Nightmares are the worst arent they? They always leave afraid that the bad dream is still cotinuing after you awaken.