Master of Dreams

Like a puppet, swinging in a forgotten wind
my head nodding to his every word
you might say it's obsession, but it's not
my eyes are merely hypnotized
with every move of his blood-red tongue
the shadows that spill from his being.

Watching each and every movement
I reach out to touch his blackened face
my hands instantly burned by the ice
it was just his reflection
I feel a puff of air on my cheek
he had been standing behind me.

He laughs giddily at me
spinning me around on the hardened floor of winter
his face changing with each step
a god, then a monster, now him again
his hands branding themselves into my skin
like a fire, wild and untamed.

I can hear whispers, voices coming from the depths
he grins at me again, his face a skeleton mask
an army of the dead rises from his feet
crawling towards me, chasing me
I cannot run from beings that are faster than light
they scratch me with their rotting fingers.

Blood oozing down my body
his ecstatic expression to much to bear
one snap of his fingers and everything is gone
the pain, the skeletons, all dissappeared.
Now butterflies, fluttering around my head
torn wings bright with fragrant blood.

The intoxicating aroma just another temptation
yet nothing compared to his smile
as I try to utter one word, one syllable
his lips stopping my breath
my eyes flying open in shock at the taste
like the glistening salt of death.

His face once again a hollow mask,
as his sun cursed eyes stare into mine
a shiver running through my very soul
the monster he is wrapping around my mind
he tampers with my thoughts, my words
the master of my dreams.