Thursday, April 2, 2009

A Dream Within a Dream

With all practical alternatives exhausted the flicker of hope fades further from reach. A burning desire for life now disguises itself as a vague will to live. The latter is not nearly enough. When desire is dissolved from the equation, by default, dread fills the void. My pool of resolve is receding, and as it flees from me I curse the inefficiency of the icy fingers of death lingering at my throat.

Rare circumstances unveil the identity of what lies beneath our mask. With earnest intentions I pray such a tragedy that has befallen me is rare indeed. Even the devil, birthed from a bubbling cauldron of deceit, should not deserve such a torturous end.

All who have drawn breath hope to avoid a lingering departure. Fading in small doses exposes the subtle frailties of the human mind. Even a circling vulture shows restraint. If he descends too quickly on a beating heart, the distress of the prey will cause a surge of adrenaline and spoil the meat. Indeed my flesh has become sour, and like an undisciplined bird I gnaw at my own skin. Each bitter bite invites a new level of torment, but the wounds are never deep enough to break the canabalistic cycle. Oh for the brilliant flames of a fiery car crash or the searing lead from a bullet as it mercifully separates senses from suffering.

A thousand times over I wish to have never known that only grief lies on the underside of a white sheet drawn prematurely. As it approaches, my limbs will not move, eyes refuse to blink, and the coldness of the table seeps into the marrow of my bones. Shallow breaths come quickly now and draw the linen against my nostrils, filling them completely. Without a glance in my direction the nurse turns out the light, and distances herself from loss. The sound of clicking heels becomes my nightmare, as they travel further down the hall. She will return home tonight to her family while I can neither look back nor move forward. Where is the smell of death I crave, and why will she not end this game?

If only a tunnel or a brilliant light would present itself. Yet I continue to wander in circles. In this realm of confusion there is only darkness that feeds on me and I upon it. My troubled soul finds no comfort among the living or the dead and this void leaves me more isolated and alone than I ever wished to be. Against all that is natural and logical my solitary hope is that suddenly I wake with wide eyes and emerge from a dream within a dream.


Jo A. T.B. said...

Sounds like a scary dream to me Dan! If we only knew how we were going to die! Interesting perceptions here!

Anonymous said...

Oh boy. . . i've had that dream before. . . at one point, I was afraid to drift off to sleep for fear of its reoccurence. . . as I have had it many times. My mother used to say it is the withch riding your back. You described it so vividly and brilliantly that I dare not sleep tonight. Thanks a lot Dan!!! lol.

Anonymous said...

Such a powerful, emotive piece, tugging at our fears. The grief on the underside of the white sheet is an incredible image. I won't forget that in a hurry!

Scott Clawson said...

Reminds me of the song "one" by Metallica. Powerful and moving, frighteningly tugging at our souls, reaching deep into the conscience core, the primortal fear in which everyone lives. Great read.

snore stop said...

I love the picture!Thanks for sharing this.