Shadows Within A Dream
I woke up from a hangover last night, to find
Death sitting at the edge of my bed. There were some percocet, a bottle of rum,
and a gun in the space between her legs. With her eyes engaging, she turned to
me and said, “I can see that your soul shattered; take my hand, let me relieve
you of your pain. For too long, have you been sailing on the sea of
uncertainly, only to wash up on the shores of a world that has gone insane.” In
the silence of thought, a few minutes seemed to be an eternity, and before I
could respond, I drifted away into a dream.
As I stood amongst the shadows that kept out the
light, all I could hear was the horrible screams coming from all directions in
the thickness of the night. The earth was scorched, plagued with violence,
corruption, and greed. Yet deep within me, I felt that things were not as bad
as they seemed.
I once dreamed of a world, where the shadows were
held at bay. And no-one was judged by their religion or race. But just as peace
began to make its presence known in my heart, those shadows from the crowd came
and ripped it apart. I saw a protesters in the streets, demanding justice for
those that were slain. And sorrow in the form of a mother, shedding tears that
read nothing but names. I went over to console her, until I was tapped on the
shoulder-turning back to see that it was Time. That's when I felt the chill of
her cold embrace, as she grabbed me from behind. She said softly, “I got you.”
© 2016 by ErnestMcMillian: Alias The Rebel
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