In Haunting Thought

 

In Haunting Thought

Each day she bore the weight of being,

Life’s cruel inequity, unseen.

The sun would sink, the shadows climb,

And night devour the edge of time.

 

Where daylight yields to dark’s command,

And colours fade from earth and land,

The waking world in silence lies,

Its toiling breath replaced by sighs.

 

Then soft as feathers, freed from care,

She drifted through the twilight air,

Across the border, faint and thin,

Where dream and darkness both begin.

 

Her bed behind, her body still,

She wandered where the night winds chill,

Through ghostly halls of thought and fear,

Where unseen whispers brushed her ear.

 

The dream-weaver, with wicked grace,

Would twist her mind, her heart displace;

Through restless storms her spirit torn,

By ghoulish shapes the night had born.

 

Perhaps they were the dead’s remains,

Still bound by longing’s phantom chains—

They sought her soul, so frail, so kind,

To claim a home within her mind.

 

Illusions danced, her senses frayed,

Her peace undone, her strength decayed.

She woke in tangled sheets of dread,

The echoes screaming in her head.

 

Her thoughts, once calm, now bruised, confused,

Her reason dimmed, her courage bruised.

In fearful dreams her mind confined,

A captive of its darker kind.

 

And yet when morning’s mercy came,

She found the world looked much the same.

The monsters fled, the night withdrew,

But still their shadowed breath she knew.

 

She pondered all her visions deep,

The secrets sown within her sleep—

Each dream a riddle, warning, plea,

Unanswered through eternity.

 

And when the dusk again draws near,

She braces for that reign of fear—

Prays that her fragile soul might keep

One peaceful hour of dreamless sleep.

Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET (Oct 2025)