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