They do.
I see them each night within my head…swirling and jostling what feelings I have left in a haze of anguish and confusion.
I see them; they are bright and radiant crimson with the blood of each cut I make into my renewed skin. Each time I close my eyes my body is replenished from all scars just so that I can suffer more pain. Blood drips…drips…flows into a river…
Black flowers grow on the riverbank and the scent of death is inexorable. The leaves of trees are charred to coal with ember margins…hot to the touch. Even the sun is ebony with the cruel intent of killing me…
People are strolling along in these dead woods, looking at me with utter contempt…they despite me for who I am…death is my shadow…and their enemy.
Malicious winds torment my red and black robes and they billow out with no mercy. All who touch the hem of my garment experience a quick and painful end.
Is there no mercy within these horrid dreams? Is it truly my sick mind that creates these foul images within my hidden mind? How much of it is true? How many dreams wander through hell just to find their corrupted way into my head at night?
I suppose that I am just dreaming…but it is part of my reality, too. I cannot escape my destiny…I am to be ruined to insanity with my demonic thoughts. So it is that I wander through life, accepting the invitation of these nighttime visions. These apparitions that are a hallucination of the manifestation of my inner self.
They walk to me from the shadows of the corner of my bedroom and steal my head…my heart…and my soul. Dreams walk…they never rest. They come to me each night…Dreams walk.
