Monsters

All is fine, but not is mine,

as dreams still haunt me daring.

As time goes, through highs and lows,

they come quick to mind, not caring.

Not blood, nor moan, would hurt alone,

as demons stand all glaring.

No thought will wane, while I'm insane.

My armaments I'm wearing.

They taunt me so, and will not go!

Their shrieks and cries keep blaring!

Now I'm awake, I scarce can take,

the thought of their declaring.

We'll meet again. I don't know when.

And so your teeth, you will be baring.

This poem is about my actual dreams. Most, if not all, consist of monstrous nightmares with demons and creatures. I started having these dreams when I accidentally viewed a horror movie at the age of five. Since then, I have used my dreams to an advantage by turning them into deep and meaningful poems.