My pillow is the gate to the underworld.
Here I sit upon a grave and the iridescent arms of the deceased thaw me.
They warn me of a watchman who guards my future.
Then I'm released to the world I'm not allowed to join.
I'm between sleep and consciousness.
In the valley of my dreams.
My sight is hidden behind a locked door.
Rain clouded with dust
Rage muted with ash. -
His hand suppresses all.
A ladder leans against a twisting tree.
Cracked leaves are my shields against splinters.
I climb until I find paradise alone in the sky.
We soar together, protected by the night.
A shrill wind steals me from my ecstasy.
I'm confined from a blanket and sweating tears.
I exhale the joy, and inhale the nightmare.
Poetry » Life Rated: K, English, Drama & Fantasy, Words: 135, Published: 7/15/2004