Masque

The same old nightmare-

stench of burning hair,

flash of yellow light,

old floorboards that creak,

the taste of warm blood,

the ghost of rope burns.

Abruptly conscious,

quick, short, rasping breaths

and the trem-bl-ing.

Always the shivers.

Images that hide,

ever out of reach.

Fear of remembrance,

denial of the bonds

that have enslaved me.

Peace-of-mind deludes,

always so draining!

Is there no reprieve?