The Dream

Falling, falling, falling through the pitch black air. My hand reaching out for something that isn’t even there. Now running, running, running from the dark that seems to take everything I love but leave everything I hate. And slowly, slowly, slowly I slowly start to die because, to be honest, I have nothing left inside. As I fall on my knees the hollow ‘thud’ fills the air But everyone around Just stands there and stares At the grand execution of the outcast they call “The Witch” As the hooded man comes towards me with a switch With the old, familiar sting a tear surfaces in my eye and as it slowly does continue I slowly start to cry. Then the figure pulls out his sword and as, towards my head, he brings it down I find myself crying with His arms wrapped around my violently quaking body and then I silently did cry “Why? What’s the point of it all? Oh, why?” but then, very calmly, He does start to say “Hey. Just look here. It’s gonna be okay. You’ll never be alone as long as I’m right here.” And then ‘it’ happened The only thing I fear I found myself alone, kneeling, clutching where he was And I quickly grabbed the swinging sword My eyes were closed because I wanted them to feel the pain that burned inside. My head lifted up to the unforgiving sky and before the people could react one of them screamed and then did shatter and inside my brain nothing really mattered. The world around me broke like the ballet mirrors that I used to dance in front of when I was young and had no fear. Then I found myself laying in my bed, alone and inside I knew that the fault was my own.