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Death Dream

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,

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

Thank you,


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