Nightmare | ||
| April 26, 1999 | Stephen Ward | |||
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Spectre of the night so frightful,
Without shape or face or name. Pitiless, it holds the dreamer, In throes of phantom fear and pain. And when the light drives back the dark, The dreamer wakes to find it gone. No shape, no face, no name recalled. Nothing but the empty dawn.
Writer’s Review: Ironically enough, I wrote this one shortly after a pleasant night’s rest. The first line came to me as I was having a conversation with my girlfriend about remembering dreams. As you might have guessed by its shortness, I’d basically finished it before the conversation was over (in my head, anyways). Tell me, though, what’s worse: a nightmare that you remember every detail from or one that’s all but forgotten by the time you wake up? Personally, I think it’s worse if you can’t remember what you were afraid of, because there’s no way to rationalize your fear. | ||||
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