Its quiet,
So quiet near silent.
The room is of low light the curtains closed.
Night,
The dead of night,
Very late nearing the earliest of new day hours.
Something troubles the mind.
I thought, a memory, a vision, nightmare, dream, all possibilities.
Thoughts clawing at the brain.
Suddenly the mind is a ticking time bomb.
Tic, tock, tic, tock,
Crash.
Down with sanity,
Gone,
For now.
The world begins changing,
Morphing into something new,
Something almost sinister in nature.
A dark, ominous feeling falls.
Pain ensues upon the head.
The troubling thought form itself into a vision.
So clear, so real,
Something is there,
A figure so dark, and crooked,
Heated as though it crawled out of the core.
It reaches out,
A pitch black smoldering hand,
Just as all hope is lost,
It vanishes back into the night.
The mind darkened, ruined,
Desecrated by a visiting.