tiny clickings on the hull
sickly sweet tendrils winding through my head
my sightless eyes still see this lull
of a sudden theres a shaking in the ground
quickly grasping hands that seek like hounds
howls of fury, and pian and rage
sound like gongs throughout this haze
they pull me down, falling through nothing
stuck in something, i look around
bogged in a mire, black in a dreary grey world
stands of trees that reach for me,
i look up and see, a friendly familiar face
the man on the moon- FROWNING on me!
i turn and run, and run and flee
and there standing before me
are little silver spoons, friends of the moon
delicacies perched upon their rounded ends
they speed towards, trying to feed me
and turn to knives! peircing my sides
-now where am i, in this frightfull dream?
or is it a dream indeed?
and i awake in my bed,
sweet sweat on my head,
fan softly humming, cooling my overheated head down
i turn and look out my window, and onto the sky,
stary, and black, comets racing like tears down cheeks
and i look at the moon, that friendly old face
and once agian that gentel smile,.
turns upside down, a quite severe frown,
and i start to fall again