Wicked Dream Poem by Ron Pate

Wicked Dream



    Faces emerge from the shadows of my darkness, skin pale white, bloodless, cold; hidden within me in plain sight, only showing themselves at night, as real as it may seem it is just a dream.

   Shallow breaths, hot and humid course across my neck, urging me to break the silence, as my heart pounds within my chest.  The shadows crowd my night as a constrictor does it's prey.

   Body weak and drained rises up, to greet each day, and if I could only say, as real as it may seem it's only a dream.. A wicked dream; one that lives within me, one which is set free, when I dream.


(DOR,112910)

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Jack Price 19 November 2011

Hello Ron, I am pretty much a sucker to read most anyone's poem or poems that speak to dreams or dreaming. I like this one a lot from a dark stand point. The best thing about a bad dream is that is a dream. Hopefully a bad dream that will not come true. We all know that we precieve so much about our selves and things around us through our dreams. In your spare time please at least review my poem: 'Distant dream' thanks J. L.

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Ron Pate

Ron Pate

Oneonta, Alabama
Close
Error Success