Anger from Inside Out
(People dream a lot about fear and love. I don’t hear much about dreaming of rage. At least not in my circles. So, when I used to have these types of dreams, I didn’t have anyone to talk to. Hence, the poem and then they never turned up again.)
Every night
I dream the dream
Vivid and loud
Invading every sense
Becoming my reality
For untold bits of time
*
It differs
From my younger dreams
No more heroic image
I am haggard
A twitching husk
Of sub-humanity
*
The beginning fades
Never as important
As the main event
Enemies arise
Threatening my family
Or random passersby
*
Savagery unleashes
When I finally snap
A roaring tempest
Quickly bathed in blood
Wielding body parts
Torn from screaming foes
*
I endure their blows
Like a demon come alive
Bullets and knives
Drawing blood
Until the very end
When I stand within an abattoir
*
I wake
With no sense of jolt
My eyelids flutter open
Taking in the clock
Crimson numbers
Reminding me of rage
Legends of Windemere 
Wow. Quite a night. (or series of nights) A terrific poem, Charles.
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Think it was a common dream. Been awhile since it popped up.
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Seems like a good thing that it has not popped up for a while.
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That is some dream! But it is the perfect description of the state of a berserker who fights as in a trance. A welll-realized poem.
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Thanks. 😊
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A powerful poem, Charles. I’m glad the dreams stopped after you wrote it. That’s interesting.
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Thanks.
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