Dreamscape

In death like sleep I saw my own tomb.

Thick grayish concrete and unyielding steel.

A stagnant blackness and a barren womb.

A macabre mansion built with Hell's zeal-

Castles for corpses sparkle in the moon.

The wealth of life for the new dead they steal.

Over the death-house cracked stone angels swoon.

Priest, preacher and rabbi point to the sky

And sing praise that I found my grave so soon.

Freeing myself from this dark trance, I cry-­

A consciousness of what these visions seem.

A scene of eternal death when I die.

No hope to find even one sunny beam.

Oh, never to sleep and no chance to dream.