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Reaccounting a strange dream,
I specifically remembered
walking into a large spider web;
I wasn't afraid of the denizens
of the still dark-I felt a
warm comfort like a shawl
being draped covering all
sides of me;
Mabe it was a hyptonic ritual
and my mind ablazed with a
poison-making me feel at
ease-before the end?
Only a confident fool confides
to the enemy, and makes
a friend;
That was then-then, a seemingly
short time ago, but aren't
dreams just that?
Small, little slices of death?
You can interpret a dream to
make sense or write it off
as a mystery-but that doesn't
explain the marks on my lower a bite...two fangs
that forever haunt me.



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The following comments are for "Then"
by Wetice

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