Another DreamMature

Another Dream

I suppose it is not surprising,

That I had another dream,

Of this one,

I recall very little.

 

My mom was,

Dragging Aunt Premala,

And Semanti,

Away from me,

And once more,

I lost control.

 

I plucked from my pocket,

A handgun,

Aimed it,

And shot my mom,

Through the heart,

Before protectively,

Sweeping Semanti,

And Aunt Premala,

Into my arms.

 

Once more I awakened,

Quite shocked at my actions,

And initially intending,

To hand myself in,

Before realising with relief,

That it was only a dream.

 

I have had no more,

Of these disturbing dreams,

Though my mom once dreamt,

I had killed three people,

Why mom dreamt that,

I have no idea,

But I know my dreams,

They occured,

At times of stress.

The End

120 comments about this poem Feed