A Nightmare of Demonic Proportions

I died to sleep

Perchance to dream

To escape this old world

With its horrors yet untold.

 

But, alas, I stirred

For a frightful air

Disturbed my slumber

Causing me great despair.

 

My eyes, they clenched

For fear of what they might spy

Perhaps a hellish wench

Consigning for me to die.

 

And upon me, 

Though, I could not see,

Was the aura of whatever monstrosity

At this late hour awaited me. 

 

And when I opened my eyes, 

I beheld quite a sight, 

For at the foot of my bed,

Awaited a creature of dread

Staring into my soul with it's eyes of blood red.

 

With it's eyes of blood red

Was this creature of dread

Staring lustfully at me,

As if it wanted me dead. 

 

A chill was introduced

Inside of this room

From which even sound had fled

Into a vacuum.

 

Nothing could be heard

But the fearful heart's beat

And the unearthly moans

Of the creature lurking at my feet.

 

I look, could it be:

 

The corruptor of souls?

Author of the earth's untimely woes?

Turning people away, without delay

From the company of their Master, nearly every day.

 

With the touch of its hands

Came the devastation of lands.

With its whispers and its call

Came mankind's glorious fall. 

 

Now what could such evil want with me?

I'm merely a peon, in the grand scheme.

I may be wrong, but could it be

The Evil wants to lock me up

And throw away the key?

 

It inches and it crawls

Towards my station, fear befalls.

No sight would ever wish to see

This creature, this monstrosity.

 

It craves the taste of human flesh

I cry, but I am unaddressed

My heart is beating out my chest. 

My heart is beating out my chest.

It writhes and slithers upon my bed

To steal my soul from where it rests.

To steal my soul from where it rests.

It is now clear, I'll soon be dead.

 

I yell and scream, cries go unheard

Try to fly away, but, alas, I'm not a bird.

My fight is gone, and soon shall I be.

But at the last moment, the Lord rescues me.

This poem is about: 
Me
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