Dreamgasm or Terrorscape?

Dark as a dead man’s dreams
and cold as his forgotten grave
traveling within shadows unseen,
I am she who needs no name.

Sister to the night visiting in dreams,
I can be all you ever wanted
or the nightmare the makes you
writhe in fear and silently scream.

A midnight blossom in full bloom
sweet perfume announces my presence,
as disquietude fills the room
yet its cause is without comprehension.

I am anathema, your bête noire
and require no physical manifestation,
I live in the dark corners of your mind,
a phantom of your memory’s trepidation.

Rogue, adversary of light,
I, a hellion of the worst order,  
feed upon your foreboding
and repugnance with gleeful delight.

No respite from this unease
you will have no solace
this phenomenon is a mental tease
the mere reprise fills you with abhorrence.

Utter loathing; your weakness and impotence  
to stop the intrusion into your sleeping mind,
is an abomination of extreme repugnance
for nocturnal apparitions such as I.

So till the next time fear not
what lives under your bead
nor the noises coming
from somewhere overhead;
but be afraid, be very afraid
of the wickedness yet to come
as your eyes close
and slumber has won.

For in dreamscape you will find
the queen of the wet-dreams
as well as the night-terrors prevailing
over your unconscious mind.  
  
By Gypsy Red
Sweet dreams...