Night moves to madness,
nightmares to night terrors
dreams of stored chaos
Images from life's blind side
slide the matter of matrix and
paradigm into folly and propaganda
buried deep into sleep.
There are no "exit" signs
from which to escape the
moments embrace of madness;
head caught in a vice,
lungs in a vacuum
baby born in a muddy trench
bullets firing, specifically to
steal the soul.
Life sees hyenas cackle
and then bloody tongues
fresh from the kill.
Night echo's screams;
awake the sleeper
of brambled illusions
when mind moves to madness
and dread begets the next
stored chaos of night terrors.