Three Poems of Twisted Dreams

Twisted Dreams

By Sheena Marie St. Charles



An inner Darkness that confines,
Twisted Dreams to sleeping minds,
with a cloud of blackened soot,
that circles trees with living root.
A city park where green grass grew,
as you slowly creep thru,
childrens laughter fills your head,
there's no-one there,

they're all dead.
A single swing sways alone,
shifting weeds over grown,
tumble weeds drifting by,
a single street lamps flickering light.
The tears of wind and rain,
slowly drift down the lane,
into the place of lost loves,
as angels watch from above,
a single rose on the ground,
butterflies fluttering all around,
this place I go at darkest night,
to watch the glowing spirits rise.


Copyright ©2002 Sheena Marie St. Charles



For my Father Ronald, may the Lord and I both have forgiveness! (edited)
- Sheena



Twisted Dreams Return

by Sheena Marie St. Charles



Now a blackened river you're beside,
bloody bubbles sway and glide,
rocks turned red by waters flood,
footprints left in the mud.
A hand reached out from the suds,
gives your heart a sudden jump,
you trip and hit you can see,
a body lying there beneath,
your fearful shrieks so loud,
echo thru this eerie town.
Bouncing up and running fast,
drums are thumping as you dash,
voices calling from all sides,
swirling thru your throbbing mind,
vines grabbing at your feet,
mist forbidding you to see.
Then at once you realize,
seeing with your teary eyes,
The inner darkness that confines
Twisted Dreams to Sleeping Minds.



Copyright ©2002 Sheena Marie St. Charles



A tribute to Twisted Dreams Friday, August 05, 2005

These sick and twisted little dreams,
consuming me every night,
taking over my soul,
controlling me with fright.
They pretend to be sweet dreams,
only to suddenly spring on me,
with evil deeds and creatures greed,
and all I need is to wake up, you see.
If only you knew the torment they bring,
the filthy things, as my mind sings,
of all my sick and twisted dreams.


Copyright ©2009 Sheena Marie St. Charles