Nightmare Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb

Surrender to the night
and sleep. A blessed thing
that sometimes
trips into mystery.
Carried dreams
from turned memory
erupt unexpectedly
unlocked and raw.

Did you ever think
that Hell is now?
The treacherous night
open mouthed and grimacing
is accounted for
and perjurious.

Could Heaven be bright?
Teasing with hellish obedience
a tattoo of stars,
the darkness abides.
An unconscious mind fights.

Fright marks the day.