The nightmare

You left your nightmare under the branches of a large willow. A cold air draft sweeping your shoulders. You trembled, shivered, a bit frightened.  The weather was almost black. Not enough day to know. What there was in front of you, this castle, this pre. Intimidated, you remained to look at them. With far the clouds advanced. On the lathes gathered. The cold bit you. The day refused to rise. The night to lie down. The castle approached. The clouds threatened you. The pre one narrowed. This contraction was going to strike you. You wanted to howl. You just murmured. A small unobtrusive cry. Your tended arms did not protect you. The castle you entered. The weather was almost black. Not enough day to know. A large staircase. To the marble steps towards the stage went up. A moon flash, a pearl of sun guided you. You advanced. In front of you, the staircase was concealed. In a wild horse-gear, you turned. Your steps accelerated. The head turned you. Blown, you wanted to stop you. To put back you. A force raised you. In a room, you was projected. You rolled. In ball, to a large chimney. In the hearth, ashes would die. The weather was almost black. Not enough day to know. You were raised. Your arms, your tired legs. Your heart in a wild rhythm. Close to the chimney, you were heated. In an armchair, you crumbled. The sleep arrived. The fear was involved. Your contracted hands. You ran. You fled. With far a light shone. Towards it, you precipitated. To breathe. To save you. You left your nightmare under the branches of a large willow. A cold air draft sweeping your shoulders. You trembled, shivered, a bit frightened.  The weather was almost black. Not enough day to know.