Most people do not understand the things that I have seen.
They do not comprehend my thoughts, or just where I have been.
Far underneath my waking mind, there is a darkened place
Where terrors and my nightmares live that I don’t want to face.
When sleep once more surrounds me, and I sink into that pit,
My mind cries out for mercy as its pathways crack and split.
My sanity is breaking, and I know just what I’ll see,
For deep within are horrors that are waiting there for me.
Their musty odor gives the air a sick, disgusting tang.
They slither in the walls upon which shattered mirrors hang.
The mirrors only show me what I’m truly like inside,
And parts of me, like sense and wit, have long ago since died.
I turn to try and flee this place, but nowhere can I run.
The demons here are laughing, for they know that I am done.
They start to creep out from the walls and climb out of the floor.
Their whispers are like scraping nails; their laughs are like a roar.
I shut my eyes and brace myself, for now will be my end.
I know my broken shattered mind will never heal or mend.
I suddenly awaken, my heart pounding in my chest.
My demons have made sure that I will have no peace or rest.
I sit here writing of my dreams. I don’t know how or when,
But it will be a long, long time before I sleep again.