Torn Dreams Poem by Nathan Killeen

Here dawns my tale about a youth
And the story that he told.
This tale he told, it was the truth
So watch this tale unfold

'I woke up to a nightmare once,
And I was full of fear.
Yes, I woke up to a nightmare once,
it made me shed a tear.

In this dream there was a man
This man I did not know.
He watched me with his cold eyes
And bade me to follow

'I do not wish to go with you, '
I shouted out in fear.
Yet still he beckoned me
And again I shed a tear.

He led me to the place of death,
I blindly followed him
He showed me where my corpse did lay.
About were Seraphim.

I woke again, to my nightmare,
My head was maimed and marred
And with my eyes wide open,
I saw the place was charred.

I was afraid to see this sight;
A dead man's walk before me lay.
I shouted out in fear and found
The ground was sodden with dismay.

Then I did see, more horror than he
The dead drew back in fear of me.

Far worse it is for me
To be through demon eyes, seeing.
Than to be around the dead,
As a living human being.

Then from behind came a Seraph.
I found myself in fear.
This angel wanted my blood,
And again I shed a tear.

Next, a shriek was heard,
The angel fell to the ground.
She'd been impaled by mine own kin,
And next was heaven bound.

Then I stopped to weep,
For again I woke to my nightmare.
This place had less despair
But sand and dunes completely bare.

I walked in this hot place for hours
Torn for want of showers, rain
No water met my lips
Yet worse than that I fell insane.

There was water at my heels,
But every time I bent to drink
The water moved away
And a tear was shed like ink.

I woke again, in much despair
Fatigued in body and mind.
But anyway got out of bed,
And thus my way did find.

This time it was my life,
Or at least it seemed to be.
For once again I saw the man
I swear I knew not he.

He came towards me once again,
'I will not go with you! ' I said.
But he pursued,
And thus I fled.

To a building built of stone I ran,
Being such a mouse.
Those inside would save me,
From the evil man that chased me
It was my own courthouse.

And it was found to be
A very mixed victory.
For half of me would go with him,
And the other half to stay with me.'

And thus the tale of broken youth,
That twine is torn,
And I am torn
And I have borne this tale to you
In hopes that you will dream it too.