A purple sky and slate gray trees, |
Fog that drifts around my knees, |
From the void, a voiceless scream, |
Quiet wakes me from my dream. |
|
A dog's soft fur and feather quilt, |
Stillness in a house well-built. |
Bills are paid; the chores are done. |
Peace descends with setting sun. |
|
My pounding heart, can't catch my breath |
Something scared me half to death. |
Didn't have too much to drink. |
Panic rules, so I can't think. |
|
No fight, attack, or subtle threat. |
Nothing strangles me with debt. |
No one says, "Oh, no! You can't." |
But, I lie here still and pant. |
|
A purple sky and slate gray trees, |
Fog that drifts around my knees, |
From the void, a voiceless scream, |
As I slip back in my dream. |