Death Dream

September 16, 2019

Death Dream




On the porch


Morning coffee


Eyes fall shut




Breathing rapid


Skull, searing scream


Chest muscles fluttering


Heartbeat suddenly silent


Gasping for air


Head quiet


All stops




A black ocean






No Joy


No Anger


No sadness


No glee


No panic


No calm


No fatigue


No energy


No gates of pearl


No fires of damnation


A void of complete, quiet, vacancy




I write of the damaged and broken, because that is the norm.
For each person who overcomes
their demons, there are hundreds,
if not thousands, who do not. 
It is their stories I tell. 


“Who am I?”

I am an independent, self-published teller of tales,
an author, as of yet, scarcely any renown.
However, as a storyteller, I know who I am,
and with that persona, I am both confident and comfortable. I invite you to visit my website,

and/or Amazon Author Pages


if you are so inclined please purchase a copy
and leave a review.

Thank you,


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