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Thief of Dreams
- Thief of Dreams -
The little girl, was falling asleep by the window,
In her dark bedroom with red curtains hanging…
And that beautiful child, a daughter of a widow,
Was awakened by the sound of a loud banging.
Tapping, rapping: like bones upon a tomb wall!
Something dark and black was outside the pane.
It was late autumn, and as the dead leaves fall…
The dead were stirring from their dreary domain.
Some shrouded face, features hidden in tatters…
Was staring at the little girl, with blood red eyes.
Misty breath, and large wings of black feathers,
Such were things the demon could not disguise!
“Open the window little girl, I am the sandman!”
Thus spoke a raspy voice from outside the glass.
“If you are he, then why do you bring no sand?”
Replied the little girl, who was no foolish a lass.
Suddenly, a skeletal arm broke through, loudly,
Spilling sand all over the bedroom’s soft floor…
The little girl screamed at a sight beyond ghastly.
After that night, she would scream never more!
Claws reached out to her, cold as an icy doom,
And she was dead before they found their mark.
Misty breath filled the air, darkening the gloom…
As the sandman began his most gruesome work!
When the child’s mother came to see what was…
Transpiring in the room where her daughter slept,
She found neither her child nor the noise’s cause.
But in that dark room, something horrible crept!
Sand covered the floor amidst sharp glass shards.
Blood was amongst the sand, blood most fresh…
Then a shadow fell, a beast speaking not words.
For on this night, the dead hungered for hot flesh!
What the mother beheld, drove her into insanity…
In the final moments before her breath was taken.
She could not fight her slayer, however forcibly…
For at that demon’s touch, all defiance is shaken.
Alas the widow and her daughter: now departed!
For the sandman came to steal all their dreams…
Bringing them sleep that is endless and uncharted.
For such is death amidst truly terrified screams…
Neither blood nor corpses remained come dawn,
But three shadows now haunted the night’s dark.
And unto slumbering souls, they are still drawn…
On certain autumn nights: both dreary, and stark!
Three shadows stalk and search for easiest prey,
To add more shadows to the army of the twilight.
So into dark rooms, be mindful should you stray!
There are night terrors that lurk beyond our sight.
The little girl, was falling asleep by the window,
In her dark bedroom with red curtains hanging…
And that beautiful child, a daughter of a widow,
Was awakened by the sound of a loud banging.
Tapping, rapping: like bones upon a tomb wall!
Something dark and black was outside the pane.
It was late autumn, and as the dead leaves fall…
The dead were stirring from their dreary domain.
Some shrouded face, features hidden in tatters…
Was staring at the little girl, with blood red eyes.
Misty breath, and large wings of black feathers,
Such were things the demon could not disguise!
“Open the window little girl, I am the sandman!”
Thus spoke a raspy voice from outside the glass.
“If you are he, then why do you bring no sand?”
Replied the little girl, who was no foolish a lass.
Suddenly, a skeletal arm broke through, loudly,
Spilling sand all over the bedroom’s soft floor…
The little girl screamed at a sight beyond ghastly.
After that night, she would scream never more!
Claws reached out to her, cold as an icy doom,
And she was dead before they found their mark.
Misty breath filled the air, darkening the gloom…
As the sandman began his most gruesome work!
When the child’s mother came to see what was…
Transpiring in the room where her daughter slept,
She found neither her child nor the noise’s cause.
But in that dark room, something horrible crept!
Sand covered the floor amidst sharp glass shards.
Blood was amongst the sand, blood most fresh…
Then a shadow fell, a beast speaking not words.
For on this night, the dead hungered for hot flesh!
What the mother beheld, drove her into insanity…
In the final moments before her breath was taken.
She could not fight her slayer, however forcibly…
For at that demon’s touch, all defiance is shaken.
Alas the widow and her daughter: now departed!
For the sandman came to steal all their dreams…
Bringing them sleep that is endless and uncharted.
For such is death amidst truly terrified screams…
Neither blood nor corpses remained come dawn,
But three shadows now haunted the night’s dark.
And unto slumbering souls, they are still drawn…
On certain autumn nights: both dreary, and stark!
Three shadows stalk and search for easiest prey,
To add more shadows to the army of the twilight.
So into dark rooms, be mindful should you stray!
There are night terrors that lurk beyond our sight.
Published 12th Feb 2013
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12th Feb 2013 9:02am
Imagery that can only be born of a poet's mind. Horrific read, Jessica dear. :))
12th Feb 2013 9:13am
My thanks! My inspiration came from a silly story my grandfather used to tell me when I was little. I had red curtains in my bedroom, and he always said: "If you're not good, the Red Demon of the Curtains will get you!" and that used to give me some nasty nightmares, even though he meant it in a silly way. Just something about the idea scared me, so a bit of that childhood fear went into this poem.
13th Feb 2013 5:54am
Awwww.... horrible horrible story, but damn, it holds me tight in its grip!
13th Feb 2013 6:42am
*Giggle* That's the whole idea, Loki! The horror of this grim little tale is exquisitely terrifying, and it seizes the heart and doesn't let the reader go until the poem is through. Glad you liked it! :)
