The Dream
The Dream
By: Tom Wright
1998
Last night as I lay sleeping, I dreamed and in it saw.
The hooded figure of a man, who had a jutting jaw.
Through opened doors He was beckoning me.
As if to come inside, for him to see.
Within that crowded space was not one sound.
Just then the room proceeded underground.
I said kind sir, my floor should be the top.
But He made no sound, nor attempt to stop.
I fear you've made a mistake in placement.
For I do not wish to go to the basement.
Slowly turning to me With a face of slate.
He said,"to bad my son" You're one day to late.
Through grinding teeth I managed to scream.
Upon awakening I found It was but a bad dream.
As I sat on my bedside Cold sweat, dripping to the floor.
I thanked God for his mercy and his knock at my door.
Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2019
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