Blast From the Past #4

Here's another poem I wrote several years ago.

Nightmare

A flash of lightning, a haunted face
They snore, a creak just behind the door
Seeping, creeping with a silent pace
A sudden strike and they snore no more

The world, it seems, with monsters teeming
Baneful, cursed and filled wholly with rage
Laying grounds for excessive screaming
Playing each night on my cerebral stage

Falling, dying, calling, and crying
Always active, tossing and turning
Losing breath but never just sighing
With hellish fever ever burning

It worsens as I maintain the dream
Blades slash down and bullets fly toward me
Demons and devils assail and scream
And I awake