The Boogie Man

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That ambiguous specter

who creeps up,

from beneath our beds

to clutch our hearts

in the darkest hour of the night,

the invader of our restful slumber,

spoiler of dreams,

so near the surface

that when we recoil,

we burst through

and find ourselves

trembling,

engulfed in fear

without knowing

why.

 

Who, we ask,

is this horrid denizen

of the nether regions

of our minds

we know so little about,

This daemon,

who would disrupt and disturb

our nightly tranquility

and play so mercilessly

on our emotions.

Why?

 

Could this visage represent

some buried and forgotten guilt?

Some pain or suffering

we dare not acknowledge?

Or perhaps

a premonition

of some unforeseen disaster,

something yet to happen?

Or perhaps

an anxiety come forth

to ward off or warn us

of some impending evil

from the otherside

of light?

 

Or does the specter represent

fear itself?

Fear

of some unspecified loss,

love or someone beloved

not yet realized.

Or perhaps, even,

the loss of something

not yet held,

only anticipated

or expected.

 

We all know

that the world

and everything in it

is temporary,

but we don´t

like to admit it.

That the moment

we grasp something,

it´s loss is implicit,

everything and everyone

comes and goes,

and yet,

we dread the loss

of anything

from the pencil in my hand

to

life itself.

 

The premonition is

that we will lose

what we already know

will be lost,

and has been

from the moment

it was found.

 

I suspect,

that as long as we cling

to our attachments,

unwilling to release them

at any time,

the boogie man

will always be there,

lurking

beneath

our beds.

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