It started with
"Water, Sand, Leaves, Dirt,
this is the substance that makes the swamp work,"
There were 3 more stanzas after this which made up the whole poem. They all had the same layout:
"thing, thing, thing, thing,
something something rhyming something"
I wish I remembered the whole thing, because it was very intracate , rhyming, and terrifying. I am kind of impressed that my brain was able to create something like this on the spot. The way it was being whispered to me was interesting too. It wasn't being "whispered into my ear", it was coming from inside my own head. I felt pressure on my ears from the poem, but it was not an external sound. It was very intimate, in a way I wish it wasn't.
After this poem was finished, I dared to open my eyes again, and I was laying (thankfully) on top of the dock this time. Imagine this old, dilapidated wooden dock with cracks in it, thats what it was. And the cherry on top, there were very thin blue-ish tendrils of ghostly fingers poking up through the cracks, touching my back. I felt a hundred different fingers gently run along my back, and I was still terrified to move or do anything. I soon managed to close my eyes and exit the dream for real this time.
Here is the fucked up part, I swear I am not making this up, when I "came to" and awoke in my bed, I could still feel hundreds of ghostly tentacles moving along my back, slowly. I have never had this happen in my entire life. I remember vividly, lying in my bed, in this half-delirious dream state, and having my body produce this weird fucking physicial sensation. It lasted a couple minutes, and I was still terrified to move or do anything. I just sat there until it slowly went away.
I remember waking up the next day, kind of stunned, and thinking "what the actual fuck, brain, why would you do that". (edited)