This is just a piece of poetry; please don’t take the lyricism too literary. I guess one of the most important qualities a good writer must posses, is the ability to be versatile – to be able to write in different ways to touch different crowds. Not everyone is sitting in a cosy home, with tea and a blanket reading poetry or a great novel. To some people the art of ‘Spoken Word’ or ‘Lyricism’ is food for thought and the cosy blanket you wrap around your body as safety. Often these ‘spoken word’ pieces consist of more serious topics so I’ve tried to capture the essence of nightmares – because we all have them – we all have experienced at least one night in horror; waking up screaming with a leaking T-shirt covered in sweat.
Yes, writer are not people who have experienced EVERYTHING in life, but still, they must posses the ability to put themselves into the mindset of EVERYONE. Rich and poor, Good or bad, Angels or Demons etc. etc.

Here’s my go; A piece of Spoken Word dedicated to the people who have experienced the meaning of ‘Nightmares’. 

Young and poor with a tougher road leading to suffer
To suffer hunger was nothing, nothing left for me to suffer. 
I’m rushing up to see the ‘cyanide’
I just came to realize, I don’t wanna see my hero die, maybe he can get a second chance in ‘Cyanide’
They say: The flesh disappears, but the soul survives
but what about the pain and memories that still revives.
I aint feel a bump, body numb, mind drifting
My vision blurry, still I saw your face clear
You were the voice when I considered the thoughts

Monsters in my head
I wake up screaming and swinging
dreaming that I’m fighting demons, dreaming I’m swinging on heathens 
I need a priest and a deacon 
cause being in a well isn’t good for my well-being.
A walking zombie, I be a comatose, nobody loves a nobody

Shaking like an earthquake’s inside me or like I caught the Holy Ghost
This ain’t the last supper, but raise your glass to my final toast
Flipped and I Lost it off hallucinogenic, I saw lucifer imagine
He asked of me questions like it was the last scrimmage
The elephant in the room are my skeletons in the closet
Now, I lay me down to sleep
I pray the lord, my soul to keep
Wake me up before i die
Don’t bury me with monsters in my head
I always see them out the corner of my eye
Scared to death to fully see them but i try
I just want to ask them, why they follow me around
And they reply when i hear a sound, or they walk by and give me a chill I cant explain, was it the high?
My anxiety’s at an all time high

I’m destroying every positive force
With these negative thoughts
How can i find happiness when I can’t remember it’s lost
I do so many temporary things: To smile for just a minute,
Trying to make everybody laugh, but that’s just a disguise, i’m really timid.

Take heed to what I’m giving you
Or i will appease and get rid of you
Maybe the only thing I seek is biblical
The scars are internal and the bleeding is invisible
I’ll let you walk in my shoes once I find a new balance
With faith I stay in peace for I know every man’s equal
So im playing with the monsters like a space jams sequel
I don’t know what they want from me
Best is: they keep running the insomniac company

I was losing my mind like I was trying to lose it
I would have washed down a pill with my own spinal fluid
Should have tattooed the earth on my heart, feel like the world against me 

It hurts when I’m thinking; me versus my personal demons
Dont know my story; my struggle and the demons that i combat
Or how I’m staring at them waiting for an eye contact
Beyond that
These are not just monsters, these are my neighbors
And if you watch each others back? I guess its favor for a favor