I wrote this around three o'clock in the morning over a month ago. Its amazing what you can write when half asleep. I suppose that's why its about dreaming.
Ghosts swirl in the endless ether of times remembered and times best forgotten. These are the memories of our failures, of our hidden half truths and outright lies. So often we fall asleep at night and dream of our heart’s desires. These are often the dreams of light and love, of laughter and romance; the boundless joys that bind mankind together. But for some of us, not so fortunate in life’s grim game, or perhaps too far past the bounds of mortal compassion, these dreams become reflections of our heart’s darkest desires. Some would call them nightmares, twisted imaginings of horror and fear, but nightmares are the products of a guilty conscious, a means to punish ourselves for the small evils we’ve done or the dark imaginings we’ve thought. To some of us these dark dreams of corruption and vice are the only comfort we find at night, the only comfort we find in life. These dreams, awash in blood, become a mirror of what thrills us, of what allures us, of the darkness within us that we choose to embrace instead of scorn.
14 years ago
