The Nightmare in Which I Stand

by solitary teenage author

A poem about hope while in death. Second poem, conjured up in about, oh, 5 minutes. R&R )

The Nightmare in which I stand

Darkness and fog begin to rise,

No one to guide me on this strange land.

I look at the tombstone infront of my eyes,

The nightmare in which I stand.

As I gaze at the words,

I feel with a cold,pale hand.

This place is bound a curse,

The nightmare in which I stand.

The words spell out my name,

Katherine Anna Lithand,

I realize now just why I came,

To this nightmare in which I stand.

I realize I'm dead,

But now I demand,

Why was I brought here,

To the nightmare in which I stand?

I kneel down and cry,

For now I am damned.

I ask myself why,

Why to this nightmare in which I stand?

A man of nice features smiles at me,

Then he holds out his hand.

I reluctantly grab it and follow him out,

Of the nightmare in which I did stand.

I know, the last verse doesn't quite follow the pattern, but I wrote it in about 5 minutes. Please review, be harsh, but be fair. I really want an honest answer about my 2nd poem written. Well, 2nd this year. I'm only 13, but have a big vocabulary, so don't comment as if I was in college. )