I dreamt a great plague that would end the world.
Sickly men with dark-circled zombie-hollow eyes
Skulking in pursuit down a white-walled corridor;
Fleeing through an institution parking garage
Down a spiral staircase, a fire escape from fear
Of white jacket mercenaries seeking a cure.

I dreamt a heatless house hidden in the hills,
A woman in a straw hat and an antique lace dress,
A phantom who lead me to a dog named Sybil,
With a winter white pelt and eyes brown and wise.
And I recognized the musty scent of her thick fur
As the one I once buried childhood tears in,
And I removed a barbed collar from her throat,
Felt her damp sand-paper tongue on my face
And claimed her for my own.

I dreamt a shelled Cathedral façade
Where I lead my pale wolf into sanctuary
But the priest hung crucified in the arms of the virgin
And the stained glass screamed of bloody murder;
The manic-eyed refugees all on bent knee
Humbled by God and sorrow and circumstance.
 
 I dreamt of a red stain on the horizon
That spread across the sky as the World burned
And a sense of futility cold on the night wind
As, destitute, we trod an ice on earth road

With body heat and hope to keep us warm.

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