My Garland

 
Upon my head reposes a dream-invading garland,
Whose enchanting intricacy is grasped even from a far land,
My dream-like halo woven from the finest of vines,
Soaked in golden light,and in roses intertwined.
Reflecting the musings of my soul in its blinding light,
A light whose heavenly fluorescence sweeps away the night.
They behold it in awe and do not blink,
My garland of light,or so they think.

Upon my head rests my nightmares' ghastly garland,
Whose enchanting darkness only I can understand.
My jet-black nimbus embroidered from a serpentine thread,
A thread whose constricting evil brings nothing but dread.
Asphyxiating my being in its flesh-ripping black thorn,
Seeking the night,from whose darkness I was born.
They fail to regard it and instead flee from it,
My garland of darkness I shamelessly exhibit.