I see a window,
It's blackened and dull.
It sits in the middle of nowhere,
A symbol, all on its own.
It's blackened and dull.
It sits in the middle of nowhere,
A symbol, all on its own.
A rock...a rock flies
Through the thickened air.
And no sound is heard
As it shatters the window.
Glass, shrapnel darting towards me,
As I look with total dismay.
Pain, I definitely feel as
I'm pierced with the glass.
Blackness, I can feel the blackness,
As it floats towards me,
In the dense, thickened air.
And it's entering me.
Nothing, I see nothing,
As I'm drawn to death.
A total rush of macabre
That I can't resist.
Awake, I'm now awake,
As beads of sweat roll of my face.
It was just another nightmare,
Nothing more than what I'm used to.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
Originally published on tristanrobertlange.com, August 28, 2025.
Tittu
-
Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: August 28th, 2025 06:59
- Comment from author about the poem: For Throwback Thursday. This piece goes all the way back to my teenage years, written around 1996 when nightmares were both a constant and a canvas regardless of sleep. The Window was one of the first times I tried to capture fear, blackness, and the pull of death in words — themes that have stayed with me, evolving as I have.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Priya Tomar, Damaso, Salvia.S 🌹
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Comments8
I have repeating nightmares from childhood, something that truly fascinates me, They have faded with time yet creep in rarely, your dream poetry is amazing, i know for a fact that brick will never hit you because your courage and determination is your protection. 🌹
Wow! Me too! Thank you so much, Teddy. The same is true for you dear poet and friend! 🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Okay Tristan I'm going to give you my take although I am not at all sure what you had in mind. A window is what we use to see the world outside and this one dark and dull clouds the view of what can be seen. Sitting in the middle of nowhere gives me a feeling of being lost and not knowing where one is. A rock is something firm and hard what things are built on and I see knowledge as a rock breaking the window of ignorance and the shards of broken ignorance hurt. Being overwhelmed with blackness leaves feelings of being engulfed by nothingness and its darkness. This seems like a deep existential crisis and fear. Thats my first take
Soren, thank you, my friend. I always appreciate the depth of your reading…you catch the layers whether I planted them consciously or not. For me, The Window was born from the raw immediacy of nightmares at 17…but I love that you pulled the thread toward existential crisis and ignorance shattered…and in hindsight, you’re spot on. That’s the gift of poetry, isn’t it? It lives its own life and even widens the poet’s horizons. Grateful for your eye as always. 🌑🙏🕯️💜
You are always most welcome my friend.
Wow, what an intense post today, my friend. I'm completely captivated by it. I can relate to the feeling of dismay, a very sincere line from the bottom of my heart. It's always a blessing to stop by and read your post. Inspiring. Thanks for sharing. Best regards.
Thank you so much, my dear friend! So glad that this delivered and the feeling is mutual for sure! 🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
That has brought me back to certain recurring dreams that I thought had been forgotten. Good to know we’re not alone; that the occurrence is something others have and get past as well. 🕊️🙏🏻
Isn't it though?! Amen, mate. Thankful for you, your time, and your ongoing support. 🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Yup. I had one the other night, one I haven't had in decades.... lol... mind subconscious is playing tricks on me. 🤪
Don't look in Popeye's window. Why not? Don't answer that! lol.
Because...🤐 🥬 🤮😭🤣
But nobody heard the break on the edge of death. I like the poem, it's so interesting to see how you have changed over the years, though still remain your dark academic self!
Why thank you, my dear friend. I am very humbled and grateful for you, your time and your analysis! You rock! 🤘😎🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Sedimentary or metamorphic? Perhaps igneous...
Hahahha! I don't discriminate! But I do love a good metamorphic, ya know? 🤣 But I hear igneous is ingenious! Sedimentary is a little sentimental. Regardless. I love me some rocks! Hahaha! I actually wrote a poem, to be published in a chapbook, called "Meet My Rocks". And it is literally about rocks I talk to because, why not? 😜
Bahahaha who doesn't like a good rock!
Right?!?!?! 🤣🪨🗿
This one is...well not sure how to describe. Seemed like a motion was captured in still lines. Has to be a fave.
Why, thank you, very much....dear friend.Your words, support, and fave humble me. Much appreciated! 🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
This is hauntingly vivid!!!
The imagery and atmosphere are really immersive, and the twist at the end about it being a nightmare is chilling. Great job capturing the emotions and sensations! Well done dearest Tittu ❤️
Thank you so much, dearest Salvia! I am so very glad that the poem was an immersive experience and that it delivered. Your time, encouragement and support mean the world 🌍 🤗 🥰 🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
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