The painful screams in the middle of the night,
She thought it was over,
But her dreams are all freight.
Her screams are like nails on a chalk board.
It's eating up her insides,
Bringing her down to nothing,
Have they won?
Has she given up?
She pulls her hair out in her sleep,
Globs of hair remaining in the morning,
Waking every hour,
To her very own tears.
I cannot do this,
Runs through her mind.
Blessed with a child,
Cursed with those dreams.
Only thing keeping her sane,
Is that baby's smile
Comments
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Such a horrible fate indeed.
It is truly stark in its image, the visage given with great gloom and terror. It is almost a shame, however, that the dreams themselves have such little description versus the effects they have.
Of course, similarly, it is surely more about the effects and of course, the innocent youth's calming allure, perhaps waning away insanity via ignorance.
Excellent.
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