Fever Dreams

Another somewhat dark poem about insanity, snakebites, or religious horror...it depends on the reader, lol.

 


 When you first noticed the bite on your arm

It was small, nothing to fear.

There was not a cause for alarm.

The pain didn’t throb or sear.

It was dull, but infection came

The fever surged, a silent curse

A wild heat that could not be tamed.

And sanity dispersed.

 

Fever dreams,

A presence rifling through your memory

A changing trickster filled with restless glee

Sending phantasms, intensity.

Worlds that before you could not see.

 

.Fever dreams.

Oh how they haunt you in the sucking heat.

Swarms of ruthless insects seeking easy meat

Filled with need, thousands and thousands of beating wings.

Backlit by a blood red sky, under a sun where life has died.

 

Fever dreams.

The steady dripping of a poison dart.

Quick vines of panic of which you’re a part.

The labored beating of corrupted hearts.

You are theirs,

Flushed and frenzied as the fire flares.

 

Walls are growing blinking eyes

Voices chant and growl and cry

Is this death or revelation, lies?

Tossing and turning in tangled sheets

Struggling to know and breathe

Caught in the thrall of they who strive to reap

You fight for your mind, in which they seep.

 

Fever dreams,

The toxin creeping through your arteries

Filling your mind with warping, surging heat.

Bitter venom, strange and sweet.

We lie on living beds

That speak soft lulling whispers inside our heads

Telling of the place we’ll see

Deception and writhing trees.

A land of rampant disease

Delirium on a silent breeze.

 

The bedroom walls have ears, and know of your fears

Moths thrum from the plaster to feed off of tears

Reality has fallen, and now madness reigns

This is joy; this is sadness, pleasure and pain

 

But like all things, the sickness withers and breaks

Your eyes snap open, finally awake

Nothing left but cinders, a dull little ache

And the triumphant hissing of the fever snake.

The End

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