The Nightmare Metaphysical

When night had come, I found a place to rest, And there, fallen asleep, I dreamed into The late hours, half aware that I was dreaming, While I had no volition of my own, Compelled onward, my actions sealed, and set To play out how they will. And through the night, The dream I dreamed was quite pecquliar, For only did I find myself in darkness, With darker visions coming in the mist, That showed me of events, but held no fact, As if all was a hoax, yet I could not wake To tell myself about the fraud I saw. But when I finally awoke, I found The dream had passed, but nohow could I tell Was there a difference, for night was still In sway, and darkness was everywhere, Much like the dream, which blended with the present, With past and current sights all intermixed. The residue of sleep kept me in doubt, So worried I the dream was real, and that My sleep was but a wakeful dread beheld, With visions in the night still haunting me, That I waited for dawn to rescue me, So I could see again, and know the way Up out of the nightmare that I had lived.