The Death Collector

by Mimi Linny

Worst Nightmare Contest Winner

Deeply drifting, darkness falls
As heavily I seep
Into a strange dimension made
Within my world of sleep

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hear the sound of silence,
Its strange tranquility,
The eerie stillness of the night,
Yields insecurity...

I feel the bite, the icy chill,
The edge of sudden fear,
I reach to touch the frigid frost
That’s hovering in the air....

I taste the dank, the tepid dew
Upon each cautioned breath,
I smell the reek of rotting soil
The pungent stench of death...

I see a lurking figure, dark
A long, black robe be-flowing
The haunting, hooded silhouette
Of face nor body showing…

With shrouded arm, extended firm,
Demands in silence, he
With whetted sickle, glistening sharp
Commands compliancy…

And points the way to timely death
For all who’ve stirred his wrath
And reaps in harvest
All who’ve crossed the death collector’s path.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In dream, if senses sharp detect
An imminent foreboding
Be trusting of their heightened state
And always heed their warning!

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Write a poem or story about your worst nightmare. If submitting a poem change the type to poem on the submission page.

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Dreaming can be seen as a 4th Dimension; sometimes feeling so real that when we awake, we wonder if the strange events have actually occurred. I wrote this piece several years ago when working on a series of stories for a Halloween event. I've adapted "The Death Collector" into a "Worst Nightmare."

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Looking into the dark dimension of dreams

The Death Collector

by Mimi Linny

Worst Nightmare Contest Winner

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