Crimson Dream Poem by Matthew Holloway

It's been reoccurring
Now for the past few nights
The nameless, faceless man turns
Butchers knife in hand
I feel it hit, push me back
Eyes wide, breath escaping
Heartbeat racing faster
Hand to chest warmer
I fall to my back
Looking to the lights above
I hear multiple voices
In shout, whisper and chatter
I gulp, is this now my last
As I watch the scene unfolding above
As though some film
I begin to awake
From this crimson dream