The Nightmare Poem by ian mark tuñacao
The Nightmare
Rating: ★5.0
It looks like a huge dream,
I can feel the cold air blowing upon my skin,
I can hear the horrible voices shouting in the surrounding,
I try to shout loudly to call a help, but no one can hear me,
For now, I know the weakness of myself,
Suddenly, I realize no one can ever help me except God, then I pray.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Topic(s) of this poem: voices,weakness
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8/28/2026 8:55:24 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
