Crooked Dream

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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