My nightmares used to be infrequent, dazed remembrance in the morning, swept away when daylight dawned, asleep in peace when midnight fell. Now each dream is more chaotic, miles of uncharted fears, vicious battles, struggles eternal, vibrant realism, anxious horror. I walk the halls of my old schools, a maze to find a destination projects…


Feather pillows, blissful sleep, dreams where words never cease, seen in the skies within her mind, limitless, flowing truth. Emily C. Poésie © 2018 inpoems 567 guide phrases: the feather became a pen we knew the sky in a word Photo Credit