Selfdream

Selfdream
 

At times, I dream myself besieged.
I rebel with the cunning of the weak.
I walk the shortcuts.
Tormentors clad
in blood-soaked black,
salute as I manipulate them
into realizing their abyss.
Some weep their sockets hollow,
or waive their thorns.
Much pain negotiated.
A trading of the wounds.
My chains carve metal
and I am branded.

© Prof. Sam Vaknin, 1997–2026. Free, non-commercial reproduction permitted under CC BY-NC 4.0 with author credit and a link back to this site.