Eyes closed,
body worn,
and sleep has found its mark,
now the mind may find time,
to reach into its vault,
and pull upon the catacombs of decay,
for now the darkness burns into life,
and horror finds its being,
amongst twisted limbs,
and bloody evisceration,
run,
yet find no peace,
no solace,
no haven,
only your nightmare,
your very nightmare,
and it will twist your contortions,
of desperation,
and you will know fear,
by its true name,
and this is your nightmare,
your own nightmare,
to suffer,
ere break of a new dawn,
and the waking screams of reality.