Crooked Dreams

I found one day a crooked dream,

Lying inside in the very heart of me,

I looked upon it and I feared it breathed,

Horror it revealed, terror it held for everyone who creeps,

Dream of light beyond darkest nights,

Dreams of cleaning old lake’s might,

What must I do, I trembled upon my chair?

Would horrid tomorrow meet yester years?

Blood, death, gore and plunder,

For the betterment of all, I must surrender,

I will not ever dream so again,

Death to me will be a better end,

But what of those who dream this everyday?

Does their conscience lay low their spares?

Death and glory, so synonymous, of which they speak,

Will they see what I see when they dream?

O’ crooked dreams keep away from whoever dreams,

No more nightmares do we ever want to see.

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