A Grim Dream

Stung by thrills of the Dream
I mused one night and felt
How dreadful it was!
That night the moon looked weary
And sad with the shadow
Of the flock of clouds
In the dark sky of the fugly night.
The Dream spoke of the peril
I least knew about;
Brought me a swirl of tremor.
The hue of darkness went away once
With the stoic rise of the Sun
And I conceived it was a dream,
Malicious and wild.

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