a fog, a bog, a dream of darkness

i was not aware
if i slept
or if this was
another waking nightmare
as the brackish sludge
lapped at my thighs
while a traversed
a bog of noxious vapors

the sun filtered
in fleeting specks
swallowed as quickly as
they found passage
between the bare branches
clawing at the sky
doing little more than
making the dense shadows
already scabrous
take on a more sinister air

i longed to walk
the verdant fields filled
with bright blossoms
swaying in the warm light
as the muck sucked at my boots
making every step
a struggle in futility
i hoped to wake
before the creatures
invisible in the dark
decided the pink flesh
was a worthy pursuit

did i dream this place
this swamp of ill begotten
rancor and woe
or had i manifested
the shards of soul
tearing at my paperthin skin
into a domain where
my insipid truth boiled over
tainting the land

i had no way of knowing
as my muscles burned
weariness in acidic haze
among the noxoous fumes
bubbling up
from this mephitic hell
this stark reflection of
a lost fool in malaise

the mocking of crows
echoed hollowly among
the boughs of stunted growth
briars tearing greedily
leaving lines of blood
to call forth any and all
of the predators
stalking in the shadows

pinching myself
with shaking fingers
to break the spell of
this accursed dreamshit
seeking small salvations
from this pestilence of
self aware sufferings
as the leeches slowly
bleed the light of hope
from a dessicated dreamer

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