Turn the Page, Turn the Life | A Writer’s Battle for Survival | Help Her Win
Turn the Page, Turn the Life | A Writer’s Battle for Survival | Help Her Win



2 mins

Monochromatic, my dreams have been

Plaguing me with weariness,

Where there used to be a density

Of multicolored fabrications

My curiosity is imploring me,

Though my sleep does not tolerate me.

Leaving my mind frustratingly empty,

As I lay my head on my pillow.

I used to dream of a distant world,

Where wonder was as abundant as air.

I could fly on the currents of imagination,

Drifting and calmly on creativity.

Every time I closed my eyes,

I would slip into this secret pleasure.

Adventure tantalizingly before me,

Cajoling me to come and play.

I would ardently await my sleeping hour,

Eagerly urging the dream to continue.

To fulfill my desire to flee,

The world around is too constricting.

But now I find this dreamland hopelessly barren.

Charred and diseased beyond identification.

My sanctuary destroyed

Devastating my only salvation ruthlessly.

I walk through the ruins cautiously,

Distressed by the haunting echo of my thoughts

Lonely and rumbling in the empty land,

Where I used to wade in pools of knowledge.

It is then when I see the monsters.

They are nameless in their wickedness,

Soiling the beauty of my refuge

Ripping apart the earth with greedy claws.

They manifest dark emotions

Thoughts of misery, despair, regret, and malevolence,

Spreading through my dream world,

Casting me into a nightmare.

I scream out in fear,

Shocked and heartbroken with their trespass.

I desperately try to awaken myself,

But am laden down with a vice horror.

The beasts are alerted of my presence,

And they began to hunt me.

I frantically try to hide,

But I can smell their rotten decay.

Terror paralyzes me as they close in,

They tear into me,

Shredding me as I give a strangled cry,

Feasting upon me mercilessly,

Devouring my conscience.

They strip me to the bone,

All thoughts of happiness, love, and hope,

Feasted upon by their powerful jaws.

Finally they consume me.

All that is left is an empty shell,

A breeding ground for evil emotion.

Hatred, misery and resentment,

Rebuilding my frame into a dark and twisted being.

I no longer know the pleasures of nightfall.

I stay locked in my nightmare,

Tainting all that I touch,

Celebrating in the destruction of beauty.

I long lost all hope of escaping,

And dwell in my obliterated kingdom.

Leaching all the light out of this world, 

Embracing the evil that I have become.

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