Only A Dream

I couldn’t scream, nor could I breath, in this petrifying dream.

There was only darkness, an eternal nothingness and unholiness.

I could see nothing. I was nothing. I am nothing.

And yet, it’s only a dream.

I was, in fact, screaming and breathing, no longer dreaming.

Now awake, with a quake, I am fully aware.

I begin laughing, still shaking, at nothing.

For, it was only a dream.

Why is it getting so hard to see? It’s dark now, and still I bark,

“This cannot be, it’s only a dream, can’t you see?”,

I mutter and stutter, like a broken shutter.

For it should be, only a dream.

I’m gasping and shivering, for my breath is leaving.

I try screaming and breathing, for it should be a dream.

Where am I, it’s too dark for my eye, can’t I say goodbye?

For, it was, only a dream.

I can’t scream and I’m not breathing or dreaming.

I am dead, and I feel heavy, like lead, finding no need to fret.

I’m either not scared or I simply don’t care, that I feel bare.

For, it’s no longer, only a dream.