Words from a Tortured Soul's World
"I Dream"

The dragon bears his aged teeth
     and brings to rest his stalwart wings,
          Landing on the darkened terrace just outside my room.

His flaring nostrils spill forth
     the smell of wretched, burning flesh,
          Yet, I have not realized my certain and untimely doom.

I question this great beast before me
     "Why have you come forth in this late hour?"
           My answer is the grumbling, tumbling sound of final gloom.

He stoops his neck to leer at me,
     then swipsed my chest with razor claws,
           And I, in shivering sweat, do notice that I've woken and its noon!