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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1846933
Written after a nightmare. I have lots of them.
Nightmare

The wind whips back my hair,
My breath comes in panicked gasps.
My legs have become lead,
And now are only painful appendages
And my will alone is not sufficient.
The fastest I can run is too slow;
He is closing in.
I feel his horrid breath tickle my neck
I imagine the things he's done
I can see his hands, bloodied,
As he takes my life
And I become
Just another conquest.
© Copyright 2012 Alexis Tigerspice (alexism290 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1846933-Nightmare