(The party has ended now,
No more masks that come down,
and are removed due to no escape,
trauma will hit them right in the face.
.
I close my eyes and breathe,
and pray to God ---
Please accept me.
The dreams and spirits I see
will now be answered
by the man who saved humanity.)
_______________________________________________________________________________________
Every now and again
These nightmares begin;
like a haunted castle
where royals battle,
until someone destroys affection,
severed heads exist amongst the tension.
.
The escalator of dreams runs mad,
And never lets me remove my hands —
The dandelions suffocate any branch,
mother cannot destroy --- no chance.
.
Centuries ago,
the female entity crawled upon the sepals
and fought the battle royals.
.
I realize that my demonic dreams
are trauma that my mother left me.
There was no one I could confide
So my mind created one so kind.
.
My rainbow friend is just pretend,
a reflection of bloody wrists
that stopped stitching its wits,
and projected a fairytale,
one that comforted turmoil.
.
Progressive sways and delays
are what these energies dismay.
.
They were people I'd vent to post battle;
My knights and bishops,
Horses that carry a princess
Who becomes a Queen,
And forever has an arch enemy.
.
Medieval looking rooms set the tone
ancient and wicked groans,
Monstrous faces overhead —
Forever are they mother's roses of death
that decay the elegant thread.
.
I must execute the enemy,
so she is now a prisoner of this hierarchy.
.
Bone fragments from the skeletons
exemplify the ancient ties
that these entities have reside
along the female bloodline,
and where royalty starts the punchline
and where family draws the line.
.
Elegant decay is furthermore
prudent as the day's lore
mother's casting scene is encrypted
with thriller and gore.
.
I struggle
Then break free,
the gardener is the broken escalator
A temporary plea --
where poison is dead set upon fraying clans
of scholars and bishops ----- gentle minds
that forever seek royal might.
.
Until next time, I awaken,
Restless and mistaken.
.
Mother, I am your enemy in Christ,
this fortnight, the escalator of dreams
no longer entraps me
against the snares of your horns;
I only serve the lord,
the highest power that grazes the land,
and your mind cannot ensnare my hands.