50% off for a limited time!

Get Core

Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

Get Help and Send Feedback

literature

Morpheus

Deviation Actions

KarlyNoelleAbreu

Published: Nov 13, 2008

491 Views

Literature Text

Every night I close my eyes
And stand before the lord of dream
He stares at me, then raises a sword
Which shall expel from mortal world
It gleams in light, aimed to me.
And down my body, a snake of fear

Well he knows me and my fear,
How dark things shift behind my eyes.
The things that are tormenting me
He laughs at creatures in my dream
In his hands he bends this world.
A silent scream edged on his sword.

It is a shining sepia sword
The thing that widens, haunting fear
It vomits things frightful to me.
He sends me spinning to his world
I see no kindness in his eyes,
The coldest man, the lord of dream.

And now within his world, my dream,
I am the one holding the sword.
He looks on me with darkened eyes,
Filled with something unlike fear.
“You cannot win in my own world,”
He says, looking direct to me.

I feel the glory weighing me,
Heavy in the house of dream.
His is a dark and unkind world.
Perhaps, he tires of the sword.
I do not know yet what to fear,
But I see nothing in his eyes.

And with my own new eyes,
I see the realm in front of me.
I shall free this place from endless fear,
Replace nightmare with sweetest dream,
And put the demons to the sword.
There shall be color to my world.

I open my eyes from the dream.
I find no sword but a bright new world.
I am still me, Morpheus, but I fear you not.

Concern

LillyRosaUtilpha

$1.88

150

Download

More by KarlyNoelleAbreu

Literature

Bruises

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Ezra glanced at the digital clock on the beside table. 1:47 AM. He sighed into the phone. “Mmmkay,” he murmured. “Why don’t you divorce Samantha?” “I don’t want to have this conversation, Kris. I’ve got things to do in the morning. I need to get some sleep.” “Like hell. You were still awake. I can tell your fake groggy voice from your real one, give me some credit.” Kristen’s voice was practically smirking, Ezra could tell. “You’re a horrible human being,” he said. Her voice went soft. “I di

Recommended Literature

Literature

To contain them...

Words are but emotion, finally contained. ~My six word story

Literature

this is the night .collab

the entire sky felt too heavy so it sunk to its knees begging for relief for the emptiness that always follows the pain numbness in place of agony. this is the time of dying suns that donate brilliant colours to the sky for those who admire the deep red vistas and feel the end of another lonely day. hot shock to the system, this is sunlight breaking your body with unbending hands, the heaviest hit hurting even the hollows between your bones, this is the time that shadows grow scurrying and juvenile in their footholds, the newfound cracks and crevices where dying light has lost its strength. the wind has birthed us tornad

Literature

what do i do when i .collab

the rain washes everything but the love from my skin, imprinted as though by fingers, sore like sand. your fingers carved love, fashioning in the bruises. you formed welts that rise as sand dunes. you took my waxen skin as a canvas and painted it with your music there are ten thousand songs to which i cannot listen because you left your lips in their rhythms the few melodies that had been mine, you stole away like breath, wrenched from my wavering throat. there is nothing of me that you have left untouched.

Suggested Collections

Literature, fiction

Literature

Star-Sent

Once there was a girl who was in love with the night sky. She had visited planetariums and read children's books on astronomy. She had learned to identify nineteen different constellations and would always look for them on dark, clear nights. She had gotten her father to stick glow-in-the-dark stars and planets to her bedroom ceiling. She had eaten freeze-dried astronaut ice cream and thought it tasted better than anything else in the world. As time passed the girl began to learn about the universe, about things like asteroids and black holes. Little by little she came to know the invisible forces that governed outer space, and the night sk

Literature

Death

"Do you fear death?" The question loomed in the air before my body, as if a sword looming over someone almost conquered by their enemy. But I looked down at my hands and then back up, only to say, "Have you ever felt the pain of watching two lovers embrace at the end of a movie? It's supposed to be a happy ending. But your heart tells your lungs to stop breathing for just a minute…because it will never ever be yours." "Do you fear death?" A question repeated deserves an answer. But instead, my trembling hands sat clenched on my lap, the blue ink like veins showing through the frail covering that might rip apart any second. "Do you kno

Literature

The Doctor

When I was seven, I was diagnosed with emotions. "Poor girl." I heard them say. "She'll never survive this one." I laid with my face towards the ceiling on the cold examination table, listening to them discuss my fate. I felt something breaking in my chest and something burning inside my throat. A small tear slipped down my cheek. "Doctor! Look at this!" Shrieked my mother, "Something is coming out of her eye." The doctor rushed over to me and wiped the tear from my cheek. He touched the top of my head as he whispered, "I am so sorry." And then he turned to my mother. "It's a tear. It means that she is sad." "Sad?" My mother asked inquis

Poetry

Literature

I Am The Ghost

I am the ghost that walks these halls, The noises you hear behind the walls, The swirls and eddies that chill the air, The squeaks and creaks upon the stairs. I am the presence that makes your skin crawl. I come in the night when the darkness falls. Black is my colour, and black are my calls, Black are the shadows I always wear. I am the ghost. I am the thoughts you don't want to recall, The ones you recoil from, shocked and appalled. I am all of your secret fears and despairs, Every anxious thought, every burden you bear. I am the you that scrawls all over these walls - I am the ghost.

Literature

Gender Binary

Recently I realised I wasn’t a proper woman. Everything that was taken for granted as being female, didn’t seem to fit. But at the same time I didn’t completely identify with the idea of a “typical” male. I appreciate that these are just stereotypes, but there’s truth in stereotypes. I have decided I am biologically female but essentially..have no gender. This might be hard for you to understand, it was definitely hard for some people to understand when I’d talked about it to them! It never dawned on me that “the average person” never wondered about what it would be like to be the opposite gender,

Literature

Anonymous

I am the girl who hides between moth eaten paper backs And slips into bookstores and devours leather bound spines I am chloroform lips bitten down, red and rosy Ink stained finger tips that fold book pages between my pupils I'm the girl who drowns herself in coffee and cough drops While remaining curled between Tennyson and Steinbeck Wasting days wondering why grass is green And how it can be greener for others and not I Then I realized its all artificial food colouring And polystyrene picket fences Sticky notes yellowed at the edges reminding myself how to smile I've pasted them on my skin in makeshift paper Mache armour But l

poetry

Literature

Featherdance (Poem)

Listen closely, and you may hear The sound of sacred fire. Its ancestry flickers in a thousand Colors, all within the hearts of unborn heroes. Somewhere deep inside legend, A fringed master slumbers. Its breath sequesters beneath its beak As it dreams in molten gold. Six score, it has lain in wait For its kaleidoscopic guardian. A spirit akin to its veined own, In suit and solemn as he. The skies grow dapper without The grace of its marbled wings And the elegance of the feathers That heal the lame and the ungainly. Its dogs look toward the heavens, Listening for its sacred fire. The hours and the days atrophy And crumb

Literature

Lavender Town

What is that? What do you hear? You look as if You've seen a ghost. Let them speak to you; All their tormented souls Wish is for a living heart To become one with theirs. The plague of sorrow racks These doleful townsmen, As they wander vacant streets With hunched shoulders. He is crying for his mother; Can you feel his tears? You cannot, for you—you— You are like all the others. Please, be their guest, And let them creep beneath your skin. They mean you immortal joy, And no harm shall haunt you. No harm shall haunt you, But they shall instead, Their stoicism patient as they Wait for you to crumble. He is

Literature

Trust

Trust. It's something earned, Not given. It's like an ember of my heart, Placed inside yours To hold and protect. Extinguishing it or throwing it away Will break our bond, It may never be repaired. Don't try to steal an ember, For it's not rightfully yours Until I personally place it in your chest. Once it's there, It grows and strengthens Until it's a fire. A fire of trust That can't be extinguished That can't be thrown out. It will always be there, Linking me to you.

Featured in Groups

More by KarlyNoelleAbreu

KarlyNoelleAbreu on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/karlynoelleabreu/art/Cyclops-138757545KarlyNoelleAbreu

KarlyNoelleAbreu on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/karlynoelleabreu/art/Apostles-114827429KarlyNoelleAbreu

KarlyNoelleAbreu on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/karlynoelleabreu/art/Tick-Tock-114827682KarlyNoelleAbreu

Morpheus is the Grecian god of Dreams.
I suffer terrible nightmares.
Revenge is less sweet than release from fear.

This is my first sestina. Sestinas, for those who don't know, are a highly structured form of poetry, in which you can only have 6 different end words for the first six stanzas, and must include them in the final tercet.