The Dread Poem by Paul Butters

One youthful night I lay in bed,
Before a wall of black.

Empty.
No - not quite.
Tiny starlike spot
Sprouts and grows like a clutching hand.
Blooms out; an eye, huge, horrific; evil hate.
A scream bursts my throat and showers
As I leap past the mirror
Into father's
Arms.

Here I am,
A pea:
Cold green knot of pain,
Hidden from the forest.
Each leaf, an eye,
Glows warm in sunshine,
Evil when disturbed
By swaying twigs.

I freeze:
Alone;
Cocooned in mud;
Afraid of evil eyes.

Beneath time's wind I hear leaves rustle.
Parasitic lusts clash in battle.
Hungry for love, they scramble.
Beaten, they crumple, rot and tumble:
Starved of Love.

Yet, faint as mist, these leaves do glow:
Each Island Earth quite lost in space,
Embraced by the Womb of God.