Cruel dreams

 In my dreams you keep returning

as a spectre... in the dark...

Just when I close my eyes, desolate and cold, you step in with a smile

for these are familiar quarters that still hold your sigil   

and torment me at my most vulnerable.

So if my dreams are the battlefield we've left,
then onward I will ride, in arms, 
prepared to chase you out again.

You may not hurt me any more
as I cannot hurt you any more.
Pain and hurt need blood and heart.
and all there's left in you is poison.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A feverish dream.

Tin Soldier

Nicolás y el día en que mataron a Escobar.