As I lay awake at night, The voice I hear – On pale skin I shed, A once frozen tear. Closing my eyes, A face I see, Deep vacant eyes, Staring straight through me. Each night the same, My silent screams – Waking bathed in sweat, Plagued by these dreams. As my hands reach forth, Only cold air I feel – My words cry out, Cruel hands steal. The voice grows stronger, Echoes deep inside – It bites and it nibbles, Wrapping me in lies. © Amanda Lancaster, 2006
