When sleep wages war

i

Oh, for the chance to sleep;

To drift and dream in sweet repose

To slumber, nestled in the arms

Of peace and warmth, with no

Expectation of anything other than

To see delightful things; to watch entranced

As the sub-conscious begins to work

Unloading merry thoughts, which dance

Like gorgeous faeries on a summer’s day

Or flower-heads bobbing in a meadow breeze

Delicious scenes unfold bright colour and fun

No angst or anguish comes with such as these.

 

ii

Alas, for this is not mine to enjoy

For two days now, my dreams have turned to war

Unconscious bends and I am trapped in dark

Upon waking, wonder what on earth it’s for

I definitely do not want to prophet

I hope no portent in these blood-soaked nights

No omen in the beaches that I storm

For modern warfare this; no kings, no knights,

No fairytales herein – the story’s to survive

Kill or be killed, and from necessity

I strangle, stab, behead, spill lives untold

Til waking ends this darkest side of me

 

iii

I always dream in technicolour

With characters, set and plot

But lately I wish upon waking

That these dreams could be forgot