I dreamed a dream,
though I’m awake.
I know this dream’s,
for my own sake.
A river of blood,
I saw it flow.
Through dirt and mud,
both high and low.
From where it came,
my eyes did meet.
The man laid out,
So Bitter Sweet.
I touched his hand,
and it felt cold.
A note in them,
Laid tightly rolled.
I picked it up,
and read I did.
I was shocked to see,
what it had said.
The writing was,
oddly familiar.
It read as though,
it was a thriller.
I read aloud,
and this it said.
From life of fear,
I have fled.
I turned and ran,
I panicked I guess.
I did not care,
for the bloody mess.
I could not breath,
I ran so fast.
I thought a spell,
on me was cast.
In my hand,
I held the note.
I noticed then,
in blood he wrote.
I read the end,
then found a seat.
The note he signed,
So Bitter Sweet.
And then I saw,
in good lighting.
It was my own,
my handwriting.
I hurried back,
to see the body.
But it had moved,
no longer muddy.
There it stood,
and stared at me.
I couldn’t believe,
what I did see.
The thing was me,
but before it spoke.
I dropped and screamed,
and then awoke.
|
|