In nightmares, death is prevalent;
arriving quickly, flashing fast.
The end is near, but too distant.
I search for fear, but fear is glassed.
Depression grasps my body tight.
It segregates my mind from thought.
My face is pale by nature, white.
Now white is turning clear, distraught.
Beyond the blurs, my nightly dreams
are close to those of lives Iíve breathed,
but fears involved appear as beams.
It shines in life, always unsheathed.