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Nightmare Poems
Poems about my nightmares.
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SalingerTwain
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Nightmare Poems
Chapter 1 of 3
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SalingerTwain

The Devil’s Whisper

(It's my birthday

and everyone's at the club)

We try to contain the beast within,

but alas it is of no use

So as the music plays

we pop pills 

and drink the night away

The beast calls out to us

And we try to ignore it

but its pull is too strong

So we pop more pills

and buy more drinks

Look 

someone just brought weed

The beast calls again

trying to remind us

of our awful lives

So we pop more pills

buy more drinks

And smoke blunts

The beast calls again

So the DJ cranks up the music 

we pop more pills

buy more drinks

and smoke more blunts

We hear some creature laugh

It sounds sinister,

but we don't care

We just want to drown out the beast

So the DJ cranks up the music

we pop even more pills

buy even more drinks

and smoke even more blunts

We're tired 

of being puppets on a string

Tonight the string has been cut

at least until the rise

of the morning sun

We hear some creature laugh

It sounds sinister,

but we don't care

We just want to drown out the beast

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Nightmare Poems
Chapter 2 of 3
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SalingerTwain

Helplessness

Having not quench my thirst in days

I lay on a beach unable to move

Moments answering death's somber call

It is here that I watch

the waves crash upon the sand

In the distance

I see a man in the ocean

he is clearly drowning

I hear his screams for help,

but I cannot help him

For I am a man dying of thirst

watching another man drown

So I sit there

helplessly listening to the screams

As the vultures form a circle above me

smelling death is the air

And the sharks form a circle around him

smelling blood in the water

Part of me feels sad 

that I cannot help him,

but then again 

we are both moments from death

It is too late for us both

The vultures and sharks know it

and so do we

As I breathe my last breath

The screams finally crease

The vultures and sharks close in

All is silent

as my sight fades

And then there was nothing

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Nightmare Poems
Chapter 3 of 3
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SalingerTwain

The Puppet & The Puppeteer

I'm a puppet on a string

being pulled by the puppeteer.

Whose face I cannot see

And whose name

I do not know.

It is a cruel master.

It lets me try to cut the strings,

but then just pulls harder

when it fears I might succeed 

letting me taste freedom,

but never letting me have it.

I'm a puppet on a string

being pulled by the puppeteer.

While my soul

lies in a container.

The longer I'm a puppet

The more of my soul

goes into the container

As I literally become

a shell of my former self.

The puppeteer laughs

knowing I will never be free.

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