Each Time we Sleep (a poem)

The lights flickered once, and we knew
what was to come, walking in the
crumbling building,

collapsing like a sandcastle
on top of us, buried underneath now
gasping for air, losing our sense
of reality, a dream-land of

new colors and shapes,
smothered and can’t escape,
‘till the ominous face appeared,
like the Wizard of Oz
the face covered with sores

wishing for distant shores,
we couldn’t believe what he said,
how he summoned the dead,
and bellowed in his mighty voice,
“The dream-world is no more!”

we best not speak of this again,
as we wake in cold-sweat beds,
clinging to each other,
naked, bloody, freezing, muddy,

knowing that each time we sleep,
we enter that far-off world
that’s killed so many boys and girls,
and leaves us stunned,
twirled, swirled in depthless fear.

(Photo by Danilo Batista on Unsplash)

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