Nightmares Poem by Theo Williams

Lying in bed nothing but the clock ticking
Counting down before his mind starts clicking.
The tap turns on, water dripping
As slowly as a dead man living.

His thoughts grow louder like a beating drum
Darker than a massacre's spectrum.
An invisible voice murmurs his name
Letting him know his soul is claimed.

Sounds of women and children screaming
Fill his room with malevolent reaping.
The atmosphere is confined by death
As he yells to the voices in a treble clef.

The piercing sound of vengeance whistling
Spills his blood for demonic christening.
Lying in an ocean of sweat, so cool
His mums yells, wake up Chris it's school.