written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Saturday, 29 March 2014

Fear

Cold beads of sweat
Crawl across my brow.
Senses heightened,
Breath shallow and rapid.
Every shadow,
Every creak,
Amplified, sinister,
Creeping closer.
Moonlight streaks
Through curtain chinks.
Casting silver searchlights,
Making the dark
Inkier still.
Shadows camouflaged
Lurking unseen
'Til slightest movement
Betrays their position.
Eyes frantically stare
Attempting to see
Beyond the blanket
Of deepest black.
A floorboard cracks
Closer than before.
Heart hammering
Trying to escape
The burdensome confines
Of its cage.
Gut wrenching
Seemingly to wring
Other organs out.
Skin pricking
Like a million needles,
Hair standing
At the nape of my neck.
Coldest fear
Claws at my brain,
Gnawing at common sense
For an early breakfast.




1 comments:

Damp incendiary device said...

Sounds like me when I woke up to the sound of snoring in my bedroom. Turns out the cat had hidden in the wardrobe. This poem sums up my response perfectly :)