The nightmare

When I lay my head down upon the feather down pillow I put my trust in the unknown,
I am an open target for unwanted visions.
As I drift into unconsciousness my mind becomes dormant,
Waiting until my body is at rest it then wakes from its stillness.
Under the cover of darkness I become a victim of my own imagination,
Wrapping its mysterious arms around me,
Smothering me as I sleep,
there is no hope.
Vulnerable I lie there, exposed to its rage,
Seeing people I am so close to yet faces iv never seen before, hearing voices I know so well of words that have no meaning and experiencing feelings that are so real amongst emotions that don’t exist.
I scream.
It taunts me with my own fears,
Its cruelty crushing me in my bed,
How can something so empty be so powerful?
How can something so uncertain be so convincing?
How can something so unseen so easily reveal itself?
It was just a delusion, a story of the night.
Its only control being its promise to return.