Poem : The Nightmare (Part 3)

 

The Nightmare 


The nightmare,

the colour of blood,

dripping down the pipe,

still spooks me.


The nightmare,

the pitch-black figure,

chasing me down the corridor,

still haunts me.


The nightmare,

the mysterious-looking amulet,

with grim green skull,

still curses me.


I wish to be free,

free from the cursed,

free from the nightmare.



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