The Keeper of Nightmares

The Keeper of Nightmares

In the stifled hush where no light survives,

roams. the Keeper of Nightmares, where horror thrives.

With fingers of ash and eyes like the void,

He murmurs in tongues, where hope is destroyed.

In chambers that crawl with whispers and bone,

He talks with the dead, on a crazy mind phone.

Each breath that you take, he drinks like a sin,

A parasite feasting on torment within.

His touch is corrosion, a cold, rusted chain,

Dragging your thoughts through shadow and stain.

Beware the reflections that leer in his lair,

They wear your regrets like a funeral prayer.

Where dreamscapes rot and silence decays,

He coils through your mind in nightmarish haze.

And when dawn claws through the flesh of the black,

He leaves you in silence, and always comes back.

So tread with dread where illusions ignite,

For the Keeper of Nightmares lives in your fright.

In the hollows of sleep, where lost souls convene,

He waits in the cracks, in the things left unseen.

He is silence incarnate, the breath you don’t take,

The scream in your throat when you jolt wide awake.

No prayer can reach where his shadow is cast.

No point to run. He will not let you past.