What of Sleep?

Right.

 

The planetary pull of e’ry molecule;

Each atom defies my rule;

‘Tis the right side of the bunk,

Yet it seems hope has shrunk;

The witnessing of a familiar visitation;

Flailing, as my senses grew ashen.

 

 

Left.

 

To the Siberian Wall of Ingress;

Abides the face of transgress,

With a toothsome welcome turned so bitter;

Where nothing but torment awaits the dreamer;

Mellow, beggarly murmurs now bestowed,

Into a vague spell n’er to behold morrow.

 

 

Back.

 

Toothsome… toothy teary-eyed terror;

Someone, no one, o’er my being hovers;

Enfeebled, petrified, semi-awake I fear;

Aye, again ‘tis thee, snatching my rest by thine sneer;

Still, not once have I prostrated and n’er will I;

Thou hast thine welcome and I, myne.

 

O’ nightly phantom patron,

To steal of myne gasps,

Ye loathsome heathen!

Nought a body in sight,

Eerie pirate of my repose;

No air… breathe… BREATHE…

STOPPER THIS MADNESS!

GET AWAY! I SCREAMED!

NEVER! NEVER!

 

‘Tis then I heard a sort of jabber…

 

Awaken!

Awaken!

Awaken!

Awaken!

AWAKEN!

MY DEAR!

 

 

 

-Leah

Author's Note

Right, left and back are routined sleeping positions of mine.

Reviews

[Jasmine]

Once you explained exactly what "right, left and back" meant, the poem hit me completely.
This is truly wonderful. I don't feel particularly worthy to review, as I could never write such well-structured and complex poetry.
In truth, I do prefer "free form" or free verse poetry, but I cannot deny the excellence of this one.

And, I like the subject very much. You've managed to talk about bad dreams, a regularly used topic, without a hint of a cliché, something I always look for in poetry - originality.