The Nightmare Factory
- Cori Hoberman
- Nov 15, 2017
- 1 min read
Chaos has awakened,
Disguised in pounding fears.
Shadows breathe a peculiar smell,
collecting frightening thoughts.
An enemy emerges
to forge a tale of terror.
What’s real remains within a mark;
a question mark, that is.
A dream becomes your vision
And Performs an absolute
What you see,
You shall believe,
Recurs in ‘ordinary.’
The storm that breeds its own debris,
tip toes its way afloat.
What remains?
Serenity?
Invisible,
to the eye.