TN :
T E L C H N SO HL WITLO EYA F LD
H BA K A D F EL DREE BR KIE
IA N W-B E
N
As the black hands of hell encompass multitudes of
children, tiny hands stretch forth toward me. I reach
out to them frantically screaming for them to grab
my hand. Our fingertips almost touch and I can feel
the heat boiling toward me, burning my arms, but yet
I stretched my arms further toward the little hands.
They begin to recede further into the abyss as the
forces of hell reclaim them.
With all hope gone I stare into the darkness. The
sounds of terror still bleeding through the blackness.
Soon, mercifully the sounds begin to fade to a
deafening silence.
I open my eyes and sit up, dripping with sweat and
shaking uncontrollably. The dream still lingering; I
feel hopelessness and loss. As my eyes begin to clear
and the dream fades an image appears at the foot of
my bed.
There stands my sweet daughter bathed in
luminescence and exuding the essence of
innocence. As the dream begins to clear from my
mind. I hear my daughter softly whisper,
"Mommy? You have bad dream?"
I stretch forth my open arms, beckoning her to
me. Our finger tips touch then I pull her to my
chest and whisper a small prayer. I then lay her
down with me with my arms wrapped tightly
around her tiny body. I smell her hair as I stroke
it. I listen to her breathing as it begins to slow
down as she falls safely asleep inside my arms.